The Heart We Share
by Mnemosyne's Elegy
Summary: Yukine's name is left vulnerable after being chipped and trapped in the heavens' box, and a series of incidents brings it closer and closer to the tipping point while Yato scrambles to hold things together. They're sitting on a powder keg of secrets drawing ever closer to igniting, and Yato wonders what's going to break first: Yukine's name, Yato's sanity, or the heart they share.
1. Part 1

**Note: FYI this whole thing is super self-indulgent and I wrote it a long time ago lol I've kind of let it languish on my computer and just side-eyed it for a while because it's, like, _really _self-indulgent, but everything coming up with Yukine cracking finally prodded me into sucking it up and posting it. Might as well get it out there before it all goes down in canon lol**

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**Part 1**

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Yato had been so careful to watch Yukine and keep him on a short leash after everything with his chipped name and the box threatened to start digging up old, dangerous memories, but it was just as he was finally starting to breathe again that they teetered on the edge of disaster. He had tried ignoring job calls for a while, but had given up on that after baby Ebisu's kidnapping. Yukine was having none of it, and Yato thought that maybe it would be good to keep the kid busy sometimes. Keep things normal.

It wasn't a decision he had made lightly, but it had probably been inevitable. He really did need to take all the work he could get, and Yukine didn't understand his reluctance and would only ask questions. The closer he could make things to normal, to the way things had been before Father and the heavens had decided to disrupt their lives, the better. He could still watch Yukine on jobs, and what would really happen? It had seemed like the obvious choice.

It might also have been the wrong one.

Yato had a weird feeling about the job when he first answered the phone and heard the voice filtering over the line, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what was tickling at the back of his mind and figured he was probably just imagining things. The husky, slightly slurred voice of the man asking for—demanding, really—their help was loud and forceful and angry as he ranted about some scam artist that had cheated him out of money.

Yato pulled the phone a little ways away from his ear with a wince and exchanged a bemused look with Yukine, who was leaning in to eavesdrop. Not that the shinki had to try that hard. This guy was definitely _loud _when he was upset.

"So," Yato asked finally after a couple more minutes of barely coherent ranting, "why didn't you go to the police?"

Silence fell and only static crackled through the line. Yukine whacked Yato on the arm and groaned.

"Idiot, you're going to lose us the job!" he hissed.

"I don't trust the police," the man said finally, defensively.

Yato quirked an eyebrow, a gesture that went unnoticed over the phone. "So…you've been doing something not exactly legal and got cheated?"

The line went quiet again, and Yukine dropped his face into his hands.

"Good job, bakagami," he grumbled. "You blew it."

It occurred to Yato that this shady guy probably _was _half a second away from hanging up, so he quickly grabbed Yukine's arm and teleported while the connection was still open. They materialized in a dingy apartment covered in a thick layer of dust and grime with dirty dishes and empty beer cans scattered about. To be honest, the guy should forget about the money and wish to have his place cleaned. Yato was pretty damn good at cleaning, if he did say so himself, and this place definitely needed it.

This line of thought ground to an abrupt halt and plunged headfirst out the window when he spotted the man gaping back at them. He was slouched over in a ratty old armchair, sandy-haired and middle-aged with a round face and foggy eyes and a beer can in one hand.

Yato's breath stuck in his throat, and his heart jumped high with a thud and crashed back down hard enough to crack like glass as the memories he'd buried in its darkest, damaged corner exploded behind his eyes.

"Y-you!" he choked out. It was dark, so dark, and the sliver of light was disappearing with only a glimpse of cold eyes and the faint scent of alcohol to mark that it had ever been there at all.

"Who the hell are you?" the man demanded. "What are you doing in my house? Holy shit, what…?"

Yato stepped in front of Yukine without a second thought, his body reacting on instinct, and threw out his arms protectively to shelter his kid behind him.

"Yato?" Yukine asked, confusion coloring his voice. "What's wrong? Do you know him?"

"Hm?" The man craned his neck and squinted his glassy eyes. "Huh, funny, you look kinda like–"

Yato lunged forward in a panic, crossing the distance in a heartbeat and slamming his hand across the bastard's mouth. The human mumbled his protests, but Yato pressed his hand hard against his mouth and squeezed his jaw like a vise as fury exploded white-hot in his chest and he leaned in.

"How dare you?" he hissed in the man's ear, quiet so Yukine couldn't hear but no less dangerous for it. The bastard's face went white and his eyes went wide, and Yato hoped he had nightmares of ancient, furious eyes boring into his soul long after he forgot the encounter. "I know what you did to your kid, and you'd better watch yourself before I do the same thing to you. His name is _Yukine_, and he is _mine_."

The man's eyes nearly bulged out of his face.

"Yato!" Yukine cried. "What are you _doing_? You can't just attack clients like that!"

"Where did you find my number?" Yato snarled. His gaze followed the shaking finger to the flyer wedged halfway beneath a beer can on the side table. His number and advertising pitch were scrawled across whatever the ad had originally been for. He released his victim to grab the paper and rip it up into a flurry of tiny scraps. "Give me your phone." The man hesitated, and Yato bared his teeth in a snarl, eyes flashing. "_Give it to me_."

He snatched the phone out of the guy's hand without waiting for compliance and opened up the call history to delete it all. He wasn't taking any chances. The man would forget meeting him soon enough, and it would be an awful _shame _if he stumbled across Yato's number again and the god lost control and did something he shouldn't.

"_Yato!_" Yukine hurried across the room to grab his arm. "Yato, stop it!"

The man swallowed and pressed himself as far back into his chair as he could go. "H-how–?"

Yato threw the phone back at him and glared. "Don't ever call me again. I believe in karma, and it will be a lot more painful if you get it from me." He threw his arm around Yukine's shoulders and pulled the spluttering shinki close. "You lost your chance."

They had to get out of there _now_. This was dangerous. Yukine's name was already fragile, and… So far he wasn't showing any signs of recognition, but it wasn't a risk Yato was willing to take.

He teleported to the first place that popped into his mind and dragged Yukine along with him. They materialized on a street mostly empty of people, and a chilly breeze swept past them.

"What the hell, Yato?" Yukine demanded, shrugging off the god's arm and glaring. "What was _that_?"

"He wasn't anyone worth helping," Yato said shortly.

"How do you expect to be a god of fortune when you attack people like that?"

"Oh well."

Yukine huffed out a frustrated breath and looked around. "Where even are we?"

"I don't know." Nothing immediately jumped out at Yato, but he wouldn't have been able to teleport here if he didn't know of it. "I just wanted to get out of there before I did something I would regret."

"Yato?" Yukine's features softened and he bit his lip as he studied the god's face. Quiet worry pinched Yato's heart. "Are you okay? You're shaking…"

Yato looked down at his hands. They _were _trembling. Actually, maybe his whole body was.

He was furious at that bastard and at himself for not doing anything. He was shaken from the memories chewing on the edges of his mind, the ones he carried so that Yukine didn't have to. But mostly he was terrified. He was terrified that this could send Yukine over the edge, work its way into the cracks and rip open a veritable Pandora's box.

But so far all he felt from Yukine, past his own raging emotions, was concern. It occurred to him that he had handled this all wrong from the get-go. If he hadn't reacted, Yukine would have no reason to suspect that anything strange was going on. But how was he supposed to do _nothing_? It had blindsided him so suddenly and painfully that he wouldn't have been able to contain his reaction even if he'd thought of it.

"Fine," he croaked.

Yukine's brows knit together, and the worry glowed brighter in his amber eyes. "Have you run across him before? I mean, you don't usually work with people more than once, but–"

"Oh," Yato said as it finally hit him. "This is where I named you."

There was a familiar-looking mailbox over there, where Yukine had been drifting. Up there, the streetlight Yato had jumped down on to claim the lost soul. Up further, the rooftops he and Hiyori had been running along to escape the ayakashi hunting them. Had it really been a year already?

Of course this was where he had come by instinct. This was where it had started, where he had given Yukine his second chance and picked up the burden of his first life for him. This was where the memories had first hit him like a freight train before he had locked them away as best he could. Before they had been dug up again.

"Really?" Yukine looked around curiously. "I don't remember much from then."

"Do you remember the words I used to name you?"

"Not really. Everything was pretty hazy at first, and I haven't seen another naming." Then Yukine shook his head as if shaking the curiosity right out. "What does that have to do with–?"

Yato shoved his hands deep into his pockets and stared blankly at the mailbox. "You, with nowhere to go and nowhere to return, I grant you a place to belong," he said quietly. "My name is Yato. Bearing a posthumous name, you shall remain here. With this name, I make thee my servant. With this name and its alternate, I use my life to make thee a regalia. Thou art Yuki. As a regalia, Setsu. Come, Sekki."

His words were quiet and didn't bear the weight of a command like they had then, but they weighed heavy on his heart just the same. He let out his breath and meticulously tamped down his out-of-control emotions just like he had back then. Just like he always did when he wasn't supposed to show them. Or feel them.

"O-oh… That's…" Yukine swallowed and shook his head. "But why–?"

"We gods use our lives to name shinki and bind them to us," Yato murmured, slouching down in his jersey as the winter breeze whispered past. "We bind you to our lives and write your names on our hearts to give you a place to belong when your soul can't move on or go back. It's why we feel your emotions and bear the weight of your sins, and why it hurts so much to lose shinki. It feels like having a piece of our heart ripped out, and then it's so _empty_."

He turned and took Yukine's face in his hands, meeting the shinki's startled gaze with solemn eyes. "I have named you and given you a piece of my life so that you could have a second chance at yours. I have given you a place to belong in my heart, in the space where I have written your name and bear your sins and feel your pain. You will always have a place to belong here for as long as you want it. Your name is Yukine, and you are _mine_. I want you to remember that."

Yukine stared back with wide eyes as the color crept into his cheeks and his emotions tightened Yato's chest. Then he shoved the god's hands away, crossed his arms over his chest, and glowered at the ground like it could hide his blush and misty eyes.

"What are you getting so weirdly sappy for?" he asked. "Gross."

Yato could feel one corner of his mouth twitching upward and his eyes softening as something finally loosened in his chest. His kid was such a teenager sometimes. And Yato would fight anything to keep him just the way he was.

"Let's go home," he said. "Maybe Hiyori has come over by now."

Yukine dropped the subject, by now knowing there was no point in pushing the god when he didn't want to talk about something, but Yato could still feel that edge of puzzled concern as they headed back to Kofuku's shrine. Hiyori wasn't there, so Yato shoved Yukine at Daikoku to take a shift in the shop and escaped upstairs.

He flopped over right onto the floor and folded his arms over his stomach as he stared up at the ceiling. Yukine was blissfully unaware downstairs just like he was supposed to be, but that didn't soothe Yato's melancholy. That anyone could do something like that to their kid was unthinkable. And to do it to _Yato's _kid…

Yukine had been robbed of his chance to grow up and have a proper family and live a happy life in the human world, and instead been left with a fear of the dark that he didn't understand and a dangerous Achilles' heel that could push him into crossing the line if something went wrong. Yato did the best he could, but he knew he couldn't make up for everything Yukine had lost. And with Father lurking around every corner deciding how best to use Yukine and Hiyori to control Yato, things were only getting more and more dangerous. If Father decided that Yukine was a threat that needed to be eliminated like Sakura, if he decided that the benefits of keeping him alive as leverage no longer outweighed the benefits of getting rid of him altogether…

Even if Father didn't interfere further, he'd already chipped Yukine's name with Chiki and the incident with the stone coffin had dragged everything a little too close to the surface. And today, stumbling across Yukine's father like that…

Just because Yukine seemed unaffected didn't mean that it couldn't cause problems later. How fragile _was _he right now?

Yato wasn't sure, but it twisted his stomach into knots. He let out his breath in a shaky sigh and closed his eyes. He relived Yukine's last moments again there in the dark, letting the memories play out and then carefully packing them away again. It wouldn't do any good to dwell on them any more than he had to.

He let his anger and grief and fear run their course, and then quietly packed those away too. He pulled himself back together one piece at a time, until he was sure he could wear a smile when Yukine returned.

"Yato?"

He opened his eyes and twisted his head around to see Hiyori standing in the doorway. "Oh, hey! You finally made it!"

"Are you alright?" she asked, worrying at her lip and peering at him with concerned eyes. "Yukine says you freaked out on a job earlier…"

"Yup, I'm fine!" He sat up and hopped to his feet with a grin. "Hey, wanna go out? I bet Yukine is almost done."

He practically flew out the door, dragging Hiyori and Yukine with him. He had no plan in mind, but the echoes of the memories were making him claustrophobic and he wanted to be out under the sky with the people he cared about the most. There was a whole world out there that he wanted to give Yukine. A whole wide world beyond the box.

They really just wandered around in the chilly winter air until Yukine started complaining about the cold and insisted they duck inside a restaurant to eat and talk, but it was enough. Yato kept a close eye on him, searching for any sign that something was wrong, but the kid seemed perfectly fine. This didn't entirely soothe Yato's worry, but he let himself relax just a little.

He kept himself together until well after the sky had darkened and Yukine was tucked safely into bed. Sleep eluded him, but he didn't bother fussing about it. He had suffered countless sleepless nights over the centuries and knew when it was pointless to try.

He wedged himself on the windowsill, back to the frame and one leg hugged to his chest while the other dangled above the floor. His worries and woes had always surfaced more persistently in the darkness, when there was no one to see him break.

Tonight, he was watching Yukine toss and turn restlessly on his futon. The kid didn't normally move that much in his sleep, and Yato's chest was feeling peculiarly tight. Dreams were a dangerous place, wedged somewhere between the conscious and unconscious. They were the first place that fragments of memory would begin seeping through the cracks and poking at the mind.

Watching Yukine twitching around was only heightening Yato's anxiety, and he was debating waking the kid up just in case. He was worried that the incident with the stone coffin had already started kicking up nightmares of the box, even if Yukine thought they were just related to the traumatizing affair with the heavens. The incident today could start dredging up new bits and pieces to insert into the already dangerous dreams.

He was still debating when Yukine sat up with a start and sucked in a deep lungful of air. His ragged breathing filtered through the still air, and the echoes of fear bounced around Yato's chest.

"Nightmare?"

Yukine jumped and twisted around in a flurry of blankets. "Y-Yato? Holy crap, you scared the life out of me!" He clutched at the front of his pajamas and frowned at the god perched on the windowsill. "What in the world are you _doing_? That's really creepy, you know."

"Sorry." Yato tilted his head and studied the shinki illuminated in the circle of lamplight, running his gaze over the wide eyes and tousled hair. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Yukine muttered.

Yato was unconvinced. He didn't know how bad the dreams were or what was creeping into them, but he was sure that the box would be there as the common element between forgotten memories and reality.

He shifted his weight to press the tips of his toes to the floor for balance and opened the window. He slid it all the way open and resettled himself more comfortably on the slightly wider ledge. The leg bent at the knee fell to the side, leaving his foot wedged beneath his other thigh and his knee poking out into the night.

"Come here," he said.

"Why?" Yukine asked, suspicion gleaming in his amber eyes. He shivered as the room began filling with chilly air. "Shut that thing before we freeze."

But Yato remembered that Hiyori had said Yukine wanted the window open after the box.

"Come on, kid." He shrugged out of his jacket and arched an eyebrow. Yukine sighed but untangled himself from the blankets to pad across the floorboards. "Come on up."

Yukine stared. "Up…_there_?"

"Yup."

"No thanks." The shinki pulled a face. "I'll probably fall off the roof or something."

"Oh, please. It's not that hard. Come on. Do you really think I'd let you fall?"

"Yes," he muttered. "That sounds like something you'd do—push me off the roof for fun and get a laugh out of it."

But he made an aborted motion to climb up, before hesitating and eyeing the small space. He let Yato take his arm and guide him up to sit with his back against the god's chest. His nervousness danced like butterflies in Yato's stomach, but Yato wrapped an arm around his waist.

"How mean," Yato said with a soft laugh.

"What are we doing up here?"

He hummed absently and draped his jersey over Yukine's shoulders. "Here."

"Gross. When was the last time you washed this thing?"

"Contrary to popular belief, I wash all my clothing regularly, thanks. I'm not a total slob."

"If you say so," Yukine said doubtfully, but he slid his arms into the sleeves. "Seriously, what are you doing? I don't know why you always sit up here anyway. It's weird. And it's, like, really late and I'm tired." He glanced back at the circle of light his lamp cast over the futon, and his anxiety ratcheted up a notch.

"Look up there." Yato pointed out at the sky.

"At _what_?"

Yato wrapped his arms snugly about Yukine and pulled him close, dropping his chin onto the kid's head as he stared out at the night. "It looks dark, but there are so many stars and the moon is so bright. And you wouldn't be able to see them at all if not for the darkness. It's pretty, isn't it?"

Yukine glanced back at the lamp again and wriggled around a bit, but then fell still once more. "Since when are you a stargazer? And seriously, could you learn the meaning of personal space?"

But he was watching the stars now and didn't slide back to the floor, and Yato smiled into his hair. Yato let his gaze wander about the star-spangled sky, drifting across the pinpricks of light smattering the darkness and the black voids between.

"It's like the sky stretches on forever," he mused. "There's a big world out there under the sky, like you could run forever out in the open air."

Yukine was quiet for a long moment. "Yeah," he said softly.

Yato stared up at the tiny stars high above, stretching across the whole world and vanishing into the recesses of the universe. "Makes you feel kind of small, doesn't it?"

Another pause. "You're a god. I don't think you're supposed to feel small."

"Well, shinki aren't supposed to be sarcastic little brats, but here you are. Here we are."

"Whatever."

They lapsed into silence, with only the chill and darkness and twinkling stars for company. That and each other.

Yato held Yukine close long after he had calmed and drifted back into sleep with his head lolling back against the god's shoulder. He waited until Yukine had given up fighting sleep before letting out a sigh. How Yukine could sleep up here was beyond him, but he supposed it must be easier when there was someone holding you to make sure you didn't fall.

He rested his chin on the nest of unruly blond hair again and settled in to keep watch for the night. The stars shone brightly high above, but the wide world they stretched over, the one that he wanted to give Yukine, felt tight and suffocating around him as the chain tightened around his neck.


	2. Part 2

**Aofery: Ha ha, thanks. I'm glad you still enjoy them. Nice to hear from you, hope you've been well.**

**EndarkenedSanity: Lol Sorry for spoiling everything for you before you even watched it XD I think it's worth watching and reading, but who has time for that anymore? X) Ha ha, cuddles and stars are the best. And Yato is a fab dad, even being a total dork. He and Yukine are too cute lol**

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**Part 2**

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Yato flopped over in a chair pulled up to Bishamon's bedside while Hiyori hovered nearby. Bishamon herself was not in bed like she ought to be, but wandering about the room looking through papers and things even though she was wrapped head to toe in bandages.

"How are you feeling?" Hiyori asked.

"Quite well, thank you," Bishamon replied. "Alive, at least, which is better than I expected."

"You really need to lie back down and get some rest," Kazuma insisted as he hovered anxiously behind her.

He had fallen back on awkward formality, and the distance between him and his goddess yawned wider than ever. Hunting him down and dragging him back home was the first thing Bishamon had done upon waking, despite all the injuries she had sustained in the fight against Father and the heavens. Kazuma was still a mess over having stung her, and his usual inferiority complex had reared its ugly head again to create that distance. Yato thought they'd work it out eventually because they'd already been through so much together, but it might take some time.

"Oh, I'm fine," Bishamon said with a sigh, but she sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Relax," Yato said, propping his elbow on the arm of the chair and slouching over to rest his cheek on his fist. "All shinki make mistakes. It's what makes them human."

"That doesn't mean I should be stinging my master," Kazuma said stiffly.

"It happens. The only way you've gotten away with it this far is that you can justify your sins to yourself so that you don't sting her for them. But assuming that you can't sting her… Humans sin. By saying that you don't sin, don't you think you're putting yourself on the level of gods?"

"I would never–!" Kazuma snapped his mouth shut with an audible click and his face twisted into a funny expression, his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to work through the implications in his head.

"Think about it." Yato arched an eyebrow at Bishamon and added, "And for heaven's sake, just lie down before you give poor Kazuma a stroke. Hafuri can be so overprotective."

Bishamon cast a worried glance at Kazuma before obediently flopping over and turning her attention back to her guests. "Speaking of which, where did _your _hafuri go?"

"Hm?" Yato twisted around and swept his gaze over the room. Hiyori was still standing beside him, but Yukine had disappeared. "Probably ran off to hide once he saw you were awake. Kid feels bad about whacking you. He thought you were going to kill Father and panicked, and then kept panicking because he thought he'd killed you."

He twitched uneasily, but it wasn't like he could stare at the kid 24/7. Yukine could take care of himself for a few minutes.

Bishamon sighed and smiled tiredly. "Well, hafuri do tend to be awfully protective, hm? I can't exactly blame him for doing his job. I'm fine."

There were heavy words left unspoken that hung between the two gods, a line drawn between them even if they didn't acknowledge it. Bishamon wanted to kill Father and knew it would likely kill Yato too. Yato knew Bishamon wanted to kill Father and would obviously prefer that didn't happen.

But still, they had fought together against the heavens. They were enemies yet allies, pursuing opposite goals yet not so very different after all. And in fighting by her side despite their conflicting interests, Yato had exposed his own neck and brought their goals closer into alignment, even if Bishamon hadn't realized it yet.

"He'll come around," Yato said with a shrug.

"Right." A hard, practical light glinted in Bishamon's eyes as she got down to business. "I heard that you were called for an audience with Amaterasu to discuss the sorcerer. What happened? What did you tell her?"

Well, Yato couldn't blame her for still being preoccupied with Father.

"Kofuku said something about that," Hiyori said, biting her lip. "Did you tell her that he was your lifeline?"

"I didn't see any reason to." Yato shrugged. "It was irrelevant. As for the rest… I told them the truth. The heavens will mount an attack at Ooharai."

"_What?_" Hiyori started and her eyes widened. "But if they kill him…! Yato, what are you going to do?"

"Do?" Yato propped his chin on his fist and fixed her with a flat look. He had wanted to keep her and Yukine out of this, but they had insisted on coming today and they weren't easy to shake. "Nothing. We will not interfere with the heavens' offensive."

"But–!"

"Going against the heavens never ends well. We're lucky to have escaped with our lives last time. I will not put Yukine in a position like that again, and I don't want you involved either."

"But if you don't stop them and they kill him, you'll disappear!"

"So I've been told."

"You can't…" Hiyori was looking a little pale as she wrapped her arms around herself. "If… As long as I remember, you won't…?"

Yato's eyes softened. "Theoretically."

"But…" Her eyes filled with tears and her voice wavered. "I… I already forgot you once."

Something sunk in Yato's chest, but he couldn't say he was surprised. Nothing but polite curiosity showed on his face.

"Back when I disappeared for a month?"

She nodded and the tears tracked down her cheeks. "Y-yeah. What if I forgot again?"

"Yeah, I was worried about that," he said evenly. His mouth twisted into a bitter little smile before he could smooth it back out. It was one of the many times in his life that he'd rather not remember. He could hardly blame Hiyori for forgetting when she could. "Ah, well. Don't worry so much. My existence isn't your responsibility. It's human nature to forget. It's okay."

"How is that _okay_?" she burst out. Her hands fisted in her skirt. "I don't…" She seemed to shrink, and her lips trembled. "I don't want you to disappear."

"That's the lifecycle of a god, Hiyori. When our purpose is gone, so are we. My purpose will be finished with Father's death. My existence will already be obsolete—however long you remember me would only be extending my life past its natural conclusion anyway. Don't worry about it."

"That's not _true_! You're important without him too! And why are you acting like you're okay with it? You don't want to disappear either!" Hiyori glared at Yato past her tears, and he met her eyes expressionlessly. Of course he didn't want to disappear, of course the prospect had him all tied up in knots, but it was a truth he'd lived with for centuries and he couldn't run away forever. "I know you wanted to save Bishamon, but why would you tell the heavens all of that? You must have realized you were dooming yourself to save her!"

Yato closed his eyes and dug his knuckles into his cheek. "You're right," he said, his voice quiet but even. "I could have kept my mouth shut, just like always. But I've let him keep me gagged for centuries, and maybe it's time that I found my voice. In any case, I have my own reasons for wanting to get rid of him."

He would never forgive himself if Hiyori or Yukine were hurt because he had been too much of a coward to remove Father. They were already in far too much danger, Bishamon had already nearly been killed, and now the new locution brush was posing a dangerous new threat. Father was dangerous to the future that Yato had just finally started believing in.

And, if Yato was being entirely honest, he also wanted revenge for the past. Oh, he believed in karma, and he hoped Father got it.

That didn't make it any easier to face his coming death, not really, but it gave him a reason to fight when before he had been too much of a coward.

"Please…"

Yato opened his eyes and winced at Hiyori's tearstained face. "No, seriously, stop worrying," he said in a lighter voice, relenting. He grinned and winked. "I've been told that I'm like a cockroach: gross and impossible to kill. I've always survived, and I'm tired of relying on Father anyway. I'm pretty persistent. Between you and Yukine pestering me into getting more believers, I'm sure I'll be fine!"

Hiyori didn't look entirely reassured, but she gave him a wobbly smile. "That's right, Yukine's really whipping you into shape. You'll be a god of fortune in no time, and I'll remember."

"That's the spirit!"

Yato raised his eyebrows as he noticed Bishamon and Kazuma watching him with strange expressions. They had been happy enough to kill the sorcerer before, even knowing that his life was on the line, but it was nice to know that they at least felt a little bad about the consequences.

"Yato, you…" Bishamon trailed off and chewed on the inside of her cheek as she sat back up.

"Relax, psycho bitch," he said with a sigh. "You'll have the sorcerer off your back soon enough."

She shook her head and schooled her features again. "Right. But why Ooharai? That's still weeks out. Why are the heavens waiting so long to mobilize?"

Yato stared back at her blankly, his jaws firmly clamped shut. Bishamon's eyes narrowed, and he wondered if she'd buy that the heavens were just particularly busy this time of year.

He was about to rudely demand why she thought he knew why the heavens did anything when his chest constricted suddenly and his heart thundered against his ribcage in erratic palpitations. His hand flew to clutch at his chest, and he leaped to his feet with a wheezing curse.

"Yato?" Hiyori asked. "Are you–?"

He nearly tripped over the chair in his haste, and was already halfway across the room when the scream tore through the air like a gunshot. He raced outside and looked frantically up and down the hall.

"Yukine?" Hiyori asked from behind him.

Yato took off in the direction of the wailing, silently cursing himself for his inattention and praying that this wasn't the moment that would send Yukine over the edge. The scream had already cut off by the time he skidded to a stop in the doorway of a small room where Kazuha and Karuha were hovering anxiously over Yukine, who was huddled on the floor.

"What happened?" Yato barked.

"We wanted to show him something we'd been working on," Kazuha said, biting his lip.

"It looks better in the dark." Karuha twisted her hands together, eyes shining with guilt. "We didn't think…"

At least they'd had the sense to turn the lights back on, but the damage had already been done.

"You fools!" Yato snarled. "Are you _trying _to kill him?" He rushed over and dropped to his knees to take Yukine's face in his hands and force the shinki to focus on him. "Hey, Yukine? Yukine? It's me. Just look at me, okay? It's okay. It's just me."

Yukine blinked back at him, his lips all twisted up in a funny expression. "S-sorry," he stammered. "I–"

"It's going to be okay." Yato wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Yukine or himself. He felt like he was cracking just as much as the kid, like the unrest in the corner of his heart that Yukine owned was spreading farther and farther. "Your name is Yukine. Remember, you have to… I've got you. You're okay, kiddo. I've got you. I–"

"Yato?" Yukine interrupted. "Why are you freaking out? I'm okay. It just caught me by surprise, that's all."

Yato jerked his hands away from the shinki's face as if burned. Yukine's brows were pinched together in concern, and his eyes shone with confusion rather than fear. In fact, the wild fear that had clutched Yato's heart, the fear that had been Yukine's, had already dulled down into something more manageable. The leftover panic, that was all Yato's.

He looked down at his trembling hands and bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. He was such a mess, panicking over every little thing.

"Are you okay, Yato?" Yukine asked cautiously, and a gentle worry spread through the god's chest to mix with the fear. Sometimes it was tiring to share your heart with someone else and bear their emotions with your own, but in this case it was a good reminder for Yato to pull himself together. "You've been kind of weird lately…"

"Yeah." Yato swallowed down the fear until he could numb it down to something dull and tired. He stared at the floor blankly. "I'm fine. It's fine."

"But–"

"Hiyori?" He was sure she was right behind him, hovering anxiously. "Take Yukine home, will you? Or, better yet, somewhere outside."

"Um…okay," she said. "But what about you?"

"I'll be along in a little while."

Yato caught Yukine standing up in his peripheral vision.

"What are you–?" the shinki started.

"Just… Just go. I'll be there in a few minutes."

Yukine hesitated. "If… If something is wrong, you can just tell me, you know."

Yato fought down a bitter smile. "Yeah. Go on, kid."

He waited until he heard Yukine and Hiyori's reluctant footsteps retreat back down the hall to press his fingertips to his eyelids and hunch his shoulders and draw in a shuddering breath. He needed a minute to pull himself together away from their prying eyes.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," he said in the twins' general direction. "It was just an accident."

"Is it…?" Bishamon's voice hardened as she said, "Everyone out. Now."

"I'm sure Kazuma is thrilled that you're out of bed again," he muttered.

The door clicked shut behind a few sets of retreating footsteps, and Bishamon limped around to stand in front of him. He didn't look up from the floor.

"You said that Yukine's name was chipped, right?" she said. "Is he showing symptoms? Tsuguha was–"

"He's not as bad as Tsuguha," Yato interrupted, not wanting to even think about that right now. His hands curled into fists against the floor. He felt hollowed out, like someone had scooped out his heart and left him empty, but still on the edge of cracking anyway. "Not yet. But he's started having dreams and things… I don't know exactly how bad they are, but… It's like the world's out to get him. That damn box the heavens locked him in came so close… And we ran into his father the other day. I'm watching him, but there's only so much I can do. I feel like I'm just waiting for the thing that's going to send him over the edge."

Bishamon let out a breath. "I'm sorry. But he's a tough kid. If it was a minor chip, he could pull through."

Yato laughed, shaky and breaking and unamused. "He can't do this to me again," he breathed, dropping his head into his hands.

He had written each shinki's name on his heart as he named them. It was part of the bond between god and shinki, and he had dutifully given each one a piece of his heart, big or small. Each time he lost a shinki, that name disappeared and left a hole there, like they had taken it with them. He could still feel each and every hole where there had once been a name. Even the shinki that quit quietly excised a small portion where their name had been, a quick cut with clean edges. The ones that had died in his service left sharper gouges with ragged, painful edges. Hiiro had ripped an ugly fissure that stretched through centuries, tangled with a complicated snarl of love and hate. Sakura had taken a huge chunk of his heart with her when he killed her, leaving behind a gaping wound with edges sharp enough to cut like glass if he ever dared poke at it.

He'd had many, many shinki over the centuries, and they had slowly whittled away his heart to a battered, bleeding mess. Sometimes it felt like he only had cracked fragments left, just a few small pieces left over from where the rest had been ripped away.

It was more manageable if he assigned shinki only the smallest place in his heart, wrote their names as tiny as possible and kept his distance so that he didn't get attached. It hurt less when they left and did less damage. But Yukine… Yukine's name glowed so bright and big in Yato's chest. Yato had gotten too attached, handed over too much of himself. Losing Yukine would be devastating, and he wasn't sure he had enough heart left to pick up the pieces after such a tragedy.

"What do you mean?" Bishamon asked cautiously.

Yato dropped his hands to stare at the floor again. The toes of Bishamon's shoes peeked into his peripheral vision.

"You might have thought I seemed callous about Tsuguha, but I get it," he rasped. "I lost a shinki that way too. Back when I was a kid. Father decided to get rid of her because I was too attached and she was teaching me how to be something different than he wanted me to be."

He had never talked about any of this, but it was killing him to sit back and watch Yukine unknowingly spiral without being able to do anything or even talk to anyone about it. It was so isolating. He was used to not having any support when things got hard, but maybe he had grown accustomed to being able to rely on Yukine and Hiyori. He couldn't talk to them about this particular problem, but Bishamon, psycho bitch or not, understood better than most. For one moment, he wanted someone to shoulder the burden with him.

"He really…?" Bishamon sounded aghast. "That's horrible! Why would he do that to _you _if he calls himself your–?"

"I'm sorry, Bishamon." Yato looked up to meet her conflicted gaze with bleak eyes. "What happened to Tsuguha wasn't meant as an attack on you, not really. It was a warning for me. A reminder of what's going to happen if I don't start cooperating again.

"There's a reason I rarely keep shinki for long, and it's not _only _because I'm a shitty master. It's dangerous to keep them too close. I turned Yukine and Hiyori into targets by getting too attached. I should have known better." He stared down at his trembling hands. "I'm afraid that if I keep up the rebellion, he's going to decide that it's not worth keeping Yukine alive as leverage to control me anymore. He'll just finish the job of shattering his name to teach me a lesson again. Shit, I'm getting so paranoid it's not even funny."

"That's…" Bishamon let out a shaky breath. "I can't let him get away with what he did to Tsuguha, and you have to protect Yukine. There has to be some way to stop him."

"Yeah." Yato's lips twisted into a bitter smile. "I have until Ooharai to destroy him myself."

"Until…?" Bishamon sucked in a breath and the realization crept into her voice. "The reason the heavens are waiting so long to move… Did you work out a deal with Amaterasu?"

He hummed tonelessly in agreement. "But Yukine won't kill him and I can't risk using him against Father while Chiki is on the playing field. I don't know what to do. And even if… Yukine is already fragile, and I'm the one keeping him together. If…" His voice wavered and dropped low enough to almost disappear. "What's going to happen to my kid when I disappear?"

There was a long pause before Bishamon groaned. "What a pain," she said, frustration creeping into her voice. "This would be so much easier if you weren't all bound up with the sorcerer."

"Yeah, well. This is the way it is."

"Still… If we could find a way to get rid of him without taking you along with him…"

Yato looked up and met her gaze with hard eyes. "I know I sounded pretty resigned, but it's not like I particularly want to die either. I've fought really hard to survive this long, and I'll fight to the end. If I can find a way around it, I will. It's just that killing Father has become a higher priority. I'm going to take him down whether or not he takes me with him, but if I find a loophole then I'm going to take it."

Bishamon's lips curled into the barest hint of a smile and her eyes softened. "Great, that sounds more like the stupid bastard I know. If anyone can find a way, it's you. And…" She chewed on her bottom lip as a melancholy shadow passed over her face. "If anything does happen to you, I'll try to look out for Yukine as best I can. I can't do half as much for him as you can, but I'll do my best."

Yato closed his eyes. He drew in a deep, cleansing breath and let it out. "Thanks. I should go find them."

"Yeah."

Bishamon reached her hand down, and Yato eyed it for a moment before taking it. He pulled himself to his feet anyway, aware that she was still plenty injured, and let go. When he opened the door, Kazuma was pacing like a caged beast farther down the hallway.

The hafuri turned at the sound of the door, and his eyes shone with concern behind his glasses. "Is everything alright?"

Yato closed his eyes and pressed his fingertips to his eyelids once more. He carefully packed away his worries, tamped down his emotions, and slapped Band-Aids across the shattered remnants of his heart until he could pretend it was whole again.

"Fine!" he said brightly, dropping his hand and flashing Kazuma a wide grin. He started back down the hallway with an energetic bounce in his step. "I'd better track down Hiyori and Yukine before they get into too much trouble! See you around!"

Kazuma's frown only deepened. He had known Yato long enough to see through such pretenses, but had always been too polite to press or call him out on his dissembling.

"Yato," Bishamon said. "If there's anything I can do…"

Yato glanced back, his veneer of good cheer melting back into exhausted melancholy for the briefest of moments, and met her gaze steadily from where she had hobbled over to lean against the doorframe. He didn't know what she thought she could really do, but it couldn't hurt.

"Yeah," he said. Then he grinned again and took off down the hall. "Not that I'd need some psycho bitch's help for anything! Byeee!"

As he set off to hunt down Hiyori and Yukine and prepared himself for their questions, he wondered who was going to shatter first: Yukine under the weight of memories that would push him into crossing the line, or Yato under the crushing stress and fearful anticipation as he waited with bated breath for the other shoe to drop.

* * *

They stumbled across the artificial storm by chance. It was a few days after the incident at Bishamon's place, and Yato had been on his best behavior to allay suspicions about his 'being kind of weird lately'.

He and Yukine had taken care of a routine job earlier in the afternoon—thankfully with no nasty surprises this time—and met up with Hiyori to visit a new restaurant that had opened up a few blocks away. They were strolling leisurely back to Kofuku's place when Yato spotted Kuraha leaping along the rooftops up ahead with Bishamon planted on his back. A handful of ayakashi decorated with a graphic eye swarmed them and wandered about the streets below to terrorize unsuspecting pedestrians. A faint black mist threaded through the air, although it wasn't as dramatic as if a vent had opened.

In short, it was a disaster zone.

"What's Bishamon doing fighting ayakashi already?" Hiyori asked, holding her hand up to shade her eyes as she squinted up.

Yato spat out a curse. "This is Father's work."

What should he do? It would be safest to avoid the whole mess. Father did things for a reason and set nasty traps. Getting involved could be dangerous, especially when Yukine and Hiyori were here. They were both targets, and Yukine, especially, was at risk with his damaged name. Yato wanted to keep him as far away from Chiki as possible, and both of them well away from Father.

On the other hand, he didn't necessarily want to leave Bishamon to fall into the trap. She was tough and could handle herself, but Father was a sneaky bastard and she was still injured.

Yato was also supposed to be hunting Father down and putting an end to things before the heavens got involved at Ooharai, but… Well, he still hadn't figured out how he wanted to handle that, and it would be dangerous to go after Father with Yukine. He had been postponing the inevitable, putting off the hunt because he was worried about leaving Yukine alone and had no idea how to find a shinki he could use against Father and was still deathly afraid of actually severing his lifeline despite all his big talk. He was running out of time, but he still didn't feel prepared for that confrontation.

"That's not good." Yukine turned to Yato with a frown. "We should help her, right? She's still hurt."

A sharp little zap of guilt ran through Yato's heart like a jolt of electricity, and he resisted the urge to sigh. Yukine was still tied up in knots about the mishap with striking Bishamon to prevent her from killing Father.

And Yato… Well, he had stood up to the heavens to protect the psycho bitch and nearly gotten himself and Yukine killed for his trouble, so she had better not keel over now.

"Yeah," he grumbled. "Hiyori, stay here."

"Absolutely not!" Hiyori said sharply. "I'll come."

"Father could be hanging around. It's safer if you stay away."

She braced her hands on her hips, a streak of purple flickering through the air behind her as her tail-like cord lashed in annoyance. "If your father is hanging around, don't you think I'd be safer with you instead of sitting out here without any kind of protection?"

Yato blinked at her, mouth opening and closing helplessly. "Fine," he groaned finally. "Stay close, but out of the way of the ayakashi. And keep an eye on your cord."

"I'm not stupid," Hiyori huffed, drawing a wan smile out of the god.

Yato bent his knees and pressed his boots hard into the ground and launched himself high enough to defy gravity. His boots slammed into the head of a streetlight, and he changed direction midair to hit the top of the building Bishamon had claimed as a battleground.

"Sekki!" The blades materialized in his hands just in time to slice through an ayakashi baring pointy teeth at the other god's back. "The hell are you doing out of bed, you crazy invalid? I'm sure Kazuma is _thrilled_."

Bishamon threw an annoyed glare his way and shot two more ayakashi with her pistols. "I caught wind that the sorcerer was stirring up trouble. Anything that involves him involves me."

Yato rolled his eyes and stepped neatly around a charging ayakashi before plunging a blade right through the eye symbol printed on its forehead. "You must have a death wish. I'm going to go clear out the street. If you see the sorcerer, shout." He scowled as her face screwed up in rebellion. "Seriously. He's dangerous, and you aren't exactly running at full capacity right now. After everything…he's going to want you dead and reincarnated. Be careful."

"…Fine."

He ran past her without another look, somersaulting through the air and slicing through another phantom before wedging the soles of his boots on the edge of the building and launching himself off the side in one fluid motion. He floated weightlessly for a moment, the chilly winter air ruffling his hair and cleansing his lungs, and then slammed into the ground boots first. He was dicing up ayakashi before the shudder of the impact finished working its way through his body.

"Pay attention, Yukine," he cautioned. "Keep an eye out in case any of them are possessing humans. If so, we'll have to be careful not to cut the people."

"Got it," Yukine replied.

Yato was on high alert because Father could be lurking around every corner, but the sorcerer failed to appear. To be honest, it was all a bit anticlimactic. The ayakashi had overrun three or four streets, but Yato and Yukine cut them down without any difficulty. A burning sensation ate its way across his skin quietly from a few minor wounds on his arms and chest and back, but they were hardly scratches.

Within twenty minutes, they had finished combing the streets and dispatching the ayakashi. And there was still no sign of Father.

"It's weird," Yato muttered. "He always does things for a reason, and I don't see what he got out of this. Maybe he's just testing something? Revert, Yukine."

"I don't know," Yukine said as he materialized beside him. "It _is _kind of strange, but… Well, let's just be glad it wasn't worse, I guess."

Yato hummed his agreement and walked back to where Hiyori had parked herself on the sidelines. He hadn't failed to notice her surreptitiously trying out some new wrestling moves on any ayakashi that wandered too close, but he decided to cut her some slack and save the lecture for another time.

He was just about to suggest that they get out of there before the psycho bitch found them when the commotion started up behind him.

"Hey!" Yukine cried. "Let me go!"

Yato whipped around and froze when he spotted Father standing behind Yukine. He grasped the shinki's upper arm tightly while pointing the tip of the monk's staff at him in an almost leisurely fashion.

"What are you doing?" Yato snapped. His head was throbbing in time to his panicky heartbeat like it might explode from the force of his thoughts circling around and around as they collapsed to a central point. His focus narrowed to Father and Yukine and the certain death speared on the end of the staff. "Leave him alone!"

Hiyori said something from behind him, but he couldn't hear past his heartbeat thumping in his ears.

"Ah, Yaboku!" Father said cheerfully. "I was hoping to run into you soon. Normally I'd stay and chat, but I have things to take care of so we'll just take care of business quickly. I'll be needing your assistance soon, but I'll leave you enough time to recover a bit first. Don't say I don't do anything for you!"

Yato stared. "Recover?" he rasped, his voice grating like sandpaper along his throat.

"Well, I seem to remember that you were a mess after last time." Father shrugged, and something hard and cold glinted in his eyes despite the stupid smile. Yukine tried to jerk his arm away, but Father's grip was like iron. It always had been. "See, you left me with a problem, Yaboku. Your rebellious phase was kind of cute at first, but it's getting old now and I need your cooperation soon.

"I thought I'd let you keep your hafuri and maybe even, you know, include him in my plans, but his usefulness is waning. Your behavior has become awfully erratic, and you're a loose cannon. Mizuchi thinks you're planning to come hunting for me, and I'm inclined to agree. Your new friends have been a bad influence on you. I was thinking I might let you keep Hiyori for now, but the hafuri has to go. He's interfering with my plans for you and making you think that you can be something you're not, and it's getting a little tiresome. It seems you might need a refresher. I thought you'd learned better, but it looks like you need to be taught another lesson."

"No," Yato breathed, panic screaming in his head like a million alarm bells bouncing around inside his skull. Father had that glint in his eye that meant he was deadly serious and committed to his course of action, and Yukine looked so small and vulnerable struggling in his grasp. Yato ran, boots slapping against the pavements and hand outstretched. "Stop it! Father, _don't_!" A thought hit him, and he cursed his own stupidity. "Come, Se–!"

"Too late!" Father chirped, a wide grin lighting his face.

Chiki came down, the point piercing through Yukine's name like a dart, and Yato's world shattered.


	3. Part 3

**Aofery: Angst often puts me in a strangely good mood too, which seems a little worrisome sometimes XD Yeah, it was a bit of a nod to "Ricochet". Speaking of which, I'm also writing a longer fic inspired from something from that...just need to finish the last couple chapters finally. Ha ha, thanks.**

**Guest: Sorry lol I always write things long before I post them. I try to space out posting a little bit instead of dumping it all at once, too, especially since I go through and edit each chapter again right before posting. But they're coming lol Just give it a few days :)**

* * *

**Part 3**

* * *

It was the god's job to safeguard their shinki's past. Their life and death and name. It was a god's most deeply guarded secret, and one they kept so that their shinki could have a clean slate and a chance at a second life after death instead of spiraling into the basest human emotions and crossing the line.

Yato had made a fatal mistake once by divulging these secrets to Sakura, and he had sworn to never do it again. Now, he didn't have a choice.

Yukine's secrets had been carefully hidden away in a quiet corner of Yato's heart and lovingly guarded. Now his name, once scrawled so big and bright across Yato's heart, was cracking apart. The name that had acted as a seal to suppress the other name and the memories that went with it.

A guttural whimper tore from Yato's throat as his heart was forcibly pried open and its most precious secrets were forced through the bond linking his life to Yukine's. His hands flew to his chest and dug claw-like into his skin as if he could squeeze it back shut, but the secrets slipped through his fingers like water. Like sand falling through the hourglass, ticking down the last few precious seconds.

Somewhere behind him, Hiyori screamed.

"I'd stay," Father said, his voice sounding far away and muffled like he was underwater, "but I really am busy. If you can't bring yourself to finish off your hafuri, I'm sure Bishamon would do it for you. I'll give you some time, but do try to be ready in a couple weeks. I've got plans for you."

Yato barely noticed him disappearing. All he could see was Yukine with his amber eyes blown wide and glassy as he was bombarded with everything all at once. Everything was pain and breaking and heartache, until it felt like Yato's heart would explode under the pressure of the anguish and grief and panic.

"Don't leave me in here," Yukine said in a breathy whimper. His eyes stared past the god to something he shouldn't be able to see, and Yato could feel his name cracking apart. "Dad, why…? Why would–?"

"Stop," Yato croaked. "It doesn't matter anymore. He doesn't matter anymore."

"Name…?" Yukine's brows drew together over unseeing eyes. "My name is–"

"_Yukine!_" Yato cried. "Your name is _Yukine_!" He stumbled forward on unsteady legs, even though it felt like every part of his body was shaking itself apart and breaking along with his heart and Yukine's sanity, and threw his arms around his kid to pull him close. Yukine's arms dangled limply by his sides as he continued to stare blankly. "I named you, remember? You have to–have to remember. I gave you a–a name and a place to belong and a second chance to live."

He was crying now, ugly sobs that garbled his words and made it nearly impossible to breathe. He clutched Yukine to his chest tightly, one arm wrapped around his back and the other hand tangled in his hair to press his face close. Tight enough that it should hurt, that it made Yato's muscles seize up. So tight, too tight, but not tight enough to keep Yukine from slipping away.

Yato squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head as the tears ran down his face and dripped into Yukine's hair. He couldn't do _anything_. Blight stung and prickled at his skin, and he wondered if it was just from the ayakashi wounds or if Yukine's transformation was already eating away his body. He was too afraid to open his eyes and see what his kid was becoming, and hopeless, desperate grief pushed out a torrent of useless words.

"You can't do this to me again," he sobbed, his breath hitching and shuddering. He rocked back and forth, hugging Yukine tight while his body shook and shook and shook. "Hold–hold on, Yukine. Please… You can't cross the line. You didn't cross before, remember? You came so–so close, but you came back to me. You came back. I t-told you, remember? I gave you a person's name, so live as a person. You have to live. You have to–have to–"

His knees buckled, and he dragged what was left of Yukine to the ground with him. For the first time in a millennium, he really, truly wanted to die, just to make the blinding agony disappear. It hurt, everything hurt, and the words tasted like ashes in his mouth and sliced his tongue like knives until they were just bleeding out of him. The words hurt more than anything, because he knew they were useless. He was helpless to stop the world from shattering around him, no matter how much he begged and pleaded.

"Please, please…" he moaned, hunching over into the ground as he cradled his dying child in his arms. "Your name is Yukine, and you are mine. You are _mine_. Don't you dare die on me. Don't you dare let him kill you again. Don't…don't leave me. Don't you leave. You were supposed to stay. You were supposed to stay with me forever, remember? You were the only shinki who ever pledged that to me. You're stronger than this. Come on, come on, you have to fight it. Yukine, _please_. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Please don't leave me alone again. I–I l-love you s-so much. Please don't go. Don't…"

He barely even knew what he was saying anymore, just let the words spill from between his lips in a choked stream of lifeblood. All he could do was squeeze Yukine tighter and tighter, hold on for the last few seconds while he still could. Before Yukine was gone forever.

And then arms closed around him too, circling around his sides and clasping behind his back and forcing all the breath out of his lungs as they squeezed tight like a vise. His head jerked up and his eyes flew open.

Yukine was shaking all over too, but he looked up. His eyes swam with tears that were fast falling loose to drip down his face.

"I-it's okay," he choked out. "I'm okay. We–we're okay, Yato."

Yato went deathly still, staring down in frozen shock. It was impossible. But Yukine still looked like himself, hadn't yet slipped across the line. Yato reached down inside himself in a desperate, wild panic. There was Yukine's name, still printed across his heart. It was cracked, shaken, dulled, but it was there. It was _there_.

He dissolved into sobs again. He didn't believe it was over, not by a longshot, but he had his kid for a few more moments. He slumped over bonelessly and held Yukine close and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. He was all out of words. All he had left was pain and relief, fear and tears.

Yukine was small and warm in his arms, but crying and shaking almost as much as Yato. The snarled mess of emotions—dangerous emotions—did not abate or unwind, only tightened further and further until Yato's chest was so tight that he couldn't breathe. All the empty parts of his heart—each hole, big or small—ached and throbbed. Each missing name clawed down deep into his chest. Yukine's name was still there, damaged but still there, but he was terrified that it would still disappear with all the rest.

"What happened?" Bishamon demanded from somewhere behind him. Yato barely heard her over his keening, barely cared.

Hiyori mumbled something. Yato realized she was kneeling beside them. He could feel her arm around him, hear the tears in her voice even though it was too quiet for him to make out the words. He wondered how long she had been there.

It was hard to tell when his entire world had shrunken to the crying boy he clung to. Yukine was crying like his soul was being torn out and his pain bounced around the god's chest, and it only made Yato cry harder.

Bishamon snarled out a low curse and reverted all her shinki in a clipped litany of names. "Everyone, go home."

"I'm sorry," Yukine was sobbing into Yato's chest, and the god wondered how long he had been choking up a rambling torrent of words. "I'm okay. Please stop crying, Yato. I'm sorry."

But Yato couldn't stop. He wondered if, after all these centuries, Father had finally broken him. Centuries of pain and heartache and memories flooded through him all at once, as if now that he had finally started crying and grieving, he couldn't stop and had to face everything he had done his best to ignore for so long. And Yukine's own emotions only made Yato feel worse and worse. Yukine should be happy and innocent and free, and it killed Yato to feel his kid so upset, so broken.

A hand closed around his arm. "Yato," said Bishamon in a steady voice, "I need you to let go of him. I think we need to separate you for a few minutes."

"No!" Yato flinched away and hugged Yukine tighter, ready to fight anyone who tried to take his kid away.

"Yato, you're hurting him."

The words cut like knives, and he released Yukine as if burned. Yukine was still clinging to him and sobbing his heart out, but Hiyori was coaxing him into letting go too. The shinki disappeared again behind a film of tears.

"I'm sorry," Yato moaned. He didn't want to hurt Yukine.

"It's okay," Bishamon said gently as Hiyori disentangled Yukine. "Listen, Yato, you two are a mess. It's upsetting him to see you so upset, and his emotions are making you even more upset. You're bouncing your pain back and forth and amplifying it. It's a vicious cycle. Come with me for a few minutes until you calm down, okay?"

She pulled him to his feet, staggering under his weight, and started drawing him away. They made it all of two steps before Yato panicked and started flailing about in her grip. If he left, who was going to make sure Yukine didn't fall apart and cross the line? What if he left and came back to find Yukine gone? He couldn't leave his kid, not now when Yukine was so fragile, so vulnerable.

"No!" he burst out, panic tightening his voice and making it crack. "You don't understand, I have to–!"

"It's okay," Bishamon said again, calm like she was soothing a spooked animal. "Hiyori is taking care of Yukine. She'll make sure he's okay. You trust her, don't you?"

Yato wavered, his sluggish brain going back and forth. He did trust Hiyori, but he was still terrified of leaving Yukine behind.

"But–"

"Yato, you aren't helping him right now."

That was right. There wasn't anything he could do, was never anything he could do. He wasn't made to save or protect, but kill and destroy. He couldn't change anything.

He went still and limp, slumping back against his captor and burying his tears in her neck. She stiffened but kept a tight grip.

"Kazuma," she said sharply. "I thought I told you to go home."

"But–" the hafuri tried, somewhere on Yato's left.

"Now. Make sure everyone gets back. I'll be along in a bit."

"But what…? Are they…okay?"

A short pause. "I'll take care of it."

"I'm going to kill him," Yato sobbed. "I'm going to fucking kill him."

Father had been wrong to think that killing Yukine would bring Yato crawling back this time. He could break Yato, crush him into a million little pieces, but the god would never let such a thing go unpunished. And if Yukine survived, Yato would fight the world, the underworld, the heavens themselves to keep him safe. Either way, he was going to rip Father's smug face right off and make sure he never acquired another.

"Calm down, Yato. Come on, it's alright."

He clung to Bishamon as she slowly guided him away step by painful step before finally giving up and lowering them to the ground. Yato curled up and cried like a child until he didn't know what he was crying about anymore.

Maybe it was everything. Everything Father had forced him to do over the centuries. Sakura's death. The impossible problem that was Hiiro. Every single hole in his heart where a name was missing—a name that he remembered, because he remembered every name long after it was ripped away. The emptiness each missing name left within him, and the centuries of loneliness. Everything each one of his friends had suffered because of him and Father, especially Hiyori and Yukine.

Yukine. Yukine, who had been shattered yet still lived. Yato was afraid, terribly afraid, that this fragile state of affairs might not last. But Yukine was alive, and some of Yato's tears were born of a sharp, sweet hope that threaded through all the pain and crashed over him in a wave so beautiful that it hurt.

It had been a very, very long time since Yato had last cried like this, and he couldn't stop until he'd wrung every last tear out of his battered heart. Until he was left hollow and numb and exhausted. He'd forgotten that feeling, the one that came after a torrential crying jag and could be either the most exquisite kind of hell or the most cleansing peace. He hadn't decided which this was yet. Maybe both.

"…He's safe," a voice was saying. "You're okay. You're both going to be alright. Breathe, Yato. It's alright."

He pulled in a deep lungful of air, and it was sweet and clean and cleared some of the fog from his head. He dragged in another for good measure, because it felt like he hadn't breathed in centuries. The knot in his chest had loosened enough for him to fill his lungs all the way down, and a quiet voice in the corner of his mind that was slowly waking from its painful haze whispered that Yukine's emotions were easing. It still hurt, but not as much, not as sharp.

As much as he still didn't want to be away from Yukine, he had to grudgingly admit that it was good to have put a little distance between them. It wasn't just that they were upsetting each other by being upset, but Yukine's increasingly negative emotions had become more and more unbearable through the bond and had almost certainly helped push Yato to break down so completely and be unable to pull himself back together. And the worse Yato's state had become, the worse Yukine felt and the cycle continued.

Yato pried open his eyes, sore and aching and gummy with tears, and wondered hazily why he was clinging to someone like he was drowning and they were the only thing keeping his head above water. Tilting his head up, he found himself staring into worried amethyst eyes. The soft, gentle expression was one he had often seen directed at shinki but never at himself.

He jerked back, his face burning as he realized he had been sobbing all over _Bishamon_, of all people. Hazy snippets of half-formed memory brought it to his attention that he had behaved in an utterly humiliating fashion.

"S-sorry," he rasped, pressing his fingers to his forehead in a vain attempt to quell the throbbing in his skull.

Bishamon sighed, and she looked more tired and sad and soft than gloating. "At least I had Kazuma to help me through the hard times. You…really had no one, did you?"

Yato's fingers ceased their kneading and went still. Maybe she was right. Maybe this had just been the thing that finally sent him over the edge and sent all his broken pieces clattering to the ground no matter how hard he tried to hold them together. Maybe he had been mourning and grieving for everything he had lost and done and become over a thousand years of painful existence all at once.

He had never really given himself time to mourn before, not for more than a few moments at a time. Even when he was miserable and losing hope and hurting, he had been careful not to let himself break too much in case he couldn't pick the pieces back up after. He had always kept his moments of vulnerability brief and contained, and carefully packed away any troublesome memories or emotions so that he could glue his mask back together for the world.

He wanted to say that he didn't know why it had all come crashing down now, but he thought that he did. He would have still had Hiyori and Kofuku and Daikoku and Kazuma and even Bishamon, and he could have picked up the pieces and kept on living just like he had always done every time he had shattered over the centuries. But…

He had given Yukine too much. He had grown too attached, even though they had barely known each other for a heartbeat by the reckoning of a god's lifespan, and let Yukine's name creep out farther and farther until it encompassed everything that was left. In a very real way, they shared a heart now. Yukine would have taken everything with him. For a terrifying moment, Yato had been completely empty, hollow, void. He hadn't been able to ignore or avoid or hide the things he didn't want to feel, didn't want the world to see.

But Yukine had _lived_. Yato's heart was aching, damaged, missing great chunks, but it still beat in his chest because Yukine's did.

"He didn't cross the line," he croaked instead of answering.

"No, he didn't." Bishamon smiled, although it was subdued. "He's alright."

"It's not over." Yato's shoulders slumped, and he dropped his hand to lace his fingers together in his lap. He stared down at them blankly. "Father will know it didn't work soon, and he could make another move. And even if he doesn't… Yukine's still in a dangerous position. If he starts losing himself, he could still cross."

"Good thing you're already planning to get rid of the sorcerer, then," Bishamon said dryly, and Yato coughed out a laugh like dead, brittle leaves. "Yukine survived. He's strong. And you'll be there to protect him and help him when things get difficult, right? You guys are tough. I'm sure you'll pull each other through."

Yukine was a survivor. Yato could feel his name there still, battered but stubbornly clinging to the place it had carved out for itself in his heart. Things weren't over, but he had to believe they would win in the end. He couldn't bear to imagine the alternative.

"Can I see my kid now?" he asked, his voice small and thin.

"Of course," said Bishamon. "If you think you're ready. Just be careful. He might still be a little fragile, and seeing you so upset was upsetting him too."

Guilt seared like wildfire in Yato's veins. His breakdown had been ill-timed. He didn't want to do anything to make things more difficult for Yukine and possibly push him over the edge. He should be focusing on helping Yukine through, not falling prey to his own emotions.

"Yeah," he mumbled.

Bishamon stood and reached down her hand, and this time Yato took it and let her pull him to his feet.

"It's alright," she said. "I, for one, understand. It's traumatizing for us too, especially when we deal with their trauma at the same time. I don't think anyone can blame you for freaking out a little. Just be cautious."

Yato nodded and followed her past a stream of pedestrians going about their normal day like the world hadn't just turned upside down. He still felt hollow and scooped out, but he wanted to see Yukine _now _and reassure himself that his kid was okay.

Bishamon turned the corner into an alley, and Yato's feet dragged to a stop as he spotted Yukine and Hiyori huddled on the ground, talking in hushed tones. He let out a shuddering breath, something finally loosening in his chest at the sight of Yukine.

Hiyori said something and nodded at the gods, and Yukine turned around. His eyes were red and watery, and he looked so small. A quiet pain Yato recognized as worry pinched his chest.

"Yato!" Yukine scrambled to his feet and rushed down the alley to throw himself at the god. Yato stumbled back a step at the force, but wrapped his arms tightly around the sniffling shinki in return. "Are you okay?"

"Am _I _okay?" Yato's laugh rattled in his chest like a cold wind shaking the windowpanes on a moonless night. "I'm more worried about you."

Hiyori threw her arms around the both of them. "I'm so glad you're both alright!" she wailed, her voice thick with tears.

Yato freed an arm to wrap around her too. "Thank you for looking after him," he said quietly.

"Of course. I was so scared, but I'm so happy that you're okay."

"Yeah." Yato untangled himself from both of them before taking Yukine's face in his hands and forcing the shinki to meet his eyes. "Listen, Yukine," he said solemnly. "This is important. You can't tell any other shinki about this, okay? Not Daikoku or Kazuma or anyone. It's too dangerous, and it could push them over the line to become ayakashi. We already lost Tsuguha. We don't want to lose anyone else."

Yukine's eyes widened. "Tsuguha…? That's what…?"

Yato's gaze slid to the side. Bishamon's eyes had clouded over and her lips were pressed together in a tight line. And because she had reached out to him when he was breaking, he reached out to squeeze her hand.

She started in surprise and then gave him a watery smile. "We're such a mess, aren't we?"

"Well, what's new there?" he asked with a dry sort of humor.

She nodded once in understanding. He felt an odd sort of kinship with her in that moment. Not only because they had both lost shinki to the secrets they should have kept, but because they were both old and a little broken in a way that someone who hadn't lived for centuries couldn't truly understand.

He turned back to Yukine.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I know it's horrible. You shouldn't have ever… Yukine, listen. You're going to have to be careful. You can't dwell on it. That's a different life, and obsessing over it will lead you into crossing the line. But if you ever need to talk about it, if it's ever bothering you, you talk to me, okay? Don't try to do it alone. Come to me when you need support with this. Promise me."

Yukine's lips trembled. "I promise."

Yato sighed, shoulders slumping again, and ran his thumb across the smooth skin above the ridge of Yukine's cheekbone just below soft amber eyes. He couldn't understand why anyone would want to hurt such a precious child. Such a child was made to be loved and cherished and protected, and deserved a family who would do so. Yato couldn't rectify the great injustice Yukine had suffered, but he would give anything to heal even a small part of it.

He was probably not the best person for the job, battered and bloodstained and jaded as he was, but he would try.

"How _did _you pull through?" asked Bishamon. "That's so rare… Nana did, but she's…different. If we know how… Maybe we can help protect the other shinki."

Yato's hand fell away from Yukine's face. "I don't know," he said tiredly, resignedly. "He's just a tough kid."

"Not really," Yukine mumbled. His lips were trembling again, and he snuffled pathetically. "You talked me through the whole thing. You were there, even when things got bad. You were afraid this would happen, weren't you?" Yato nodded once. "That's why you've been so weird. Why you told me about the naming."

"Naming?" Hiyori asked. "What do you mean?"

Yukine's eyes clouded over with tears again, but he didn't look away from Yato's tired gaze. "You used your life to give me a second chance at mine. You wrote my name on your heart so that I would have a place to belong. You named me, and I am yours. You told me that. You told me to remember that." His voice wavered and cracked as his tears spilled over again, and Yato could feel his face crumpling. "And I did," Yukine said past his tears. "I remembered."

Love and pain, relief and grief, joy and sorrow seared white-hot through the empty well the tears had left in Yato's chest. He didn't collapse back into a puddle, but quiet tears gathered in his eyes as he pulled Yukine close and hugged him tight again. He wanted to hold him forever, never let go.

"I couldn't cross the line," Yukine sobbed into his chest. "How could I? That has nothing to do with me anymore. My name, my real name, is Yukine. How could I cross the line when I belong with you?"

Yato trembled under the weight of such innocent trust and loyalty.

"Always," he whispered into Yukine's hair, his voice quivering. He cradled his kid close as he rocked back and forth and buried his face in the nest of downy blond hair. "You will always have a place here."

Maybe he had made a mistake getting attached so quickly and handing over so much, but he didn't care. Yukine could have his entire heart, holes and all, and Yato had no regrets. Maybe it was about time he'd found something worth fighting for.

He reached down to find where Yukine's name was printed. It was cracked and scarred and frail, but it glowed brighter than the sun once more, Yato's guiding light to lead the way and hold back the dark. He took hold of that name and all its broken pieces and held it together with every ounce of determination he possessed. Yukine was strong, but Yato would hold him together when he was failing and fragile and weak.

After all, Yato had promised him a place to belong in his heart. If he had to finally glue together all the shattered pieces of his heart to do it, if he had to hold Yukine together in this moment of weakness, if he had to be strong enough to keep them bound together, he _would_. He would do anything to keep that promise.

He would keep a home open for Yukine, even if he had to mend their heart to do it.

* * *

**Note: I did say that it was super self-indulgent. Tbh I'm far more enamored of the idea that Yukine would totally fall apart if this happened (mostly because it seems a little more realistic), but I wanted this pretty badly too lol**


	4. Part 4

**.**

**Part 4**

* * *

Yato had been ripped apart, crushed beneath the heaviest memories, shattered into a million sharp pieces of ground glass, drowned in a flood of tears. He had felt more fear and pain and grief than any one body was meant to contain. He had burned hot and bright in his panic and brokenness until he had burned himself right out and been left hollow and aching and drained.

In short, he was utterly exhausted. It had all been so much, too much, and it had taken everything he had to give. He felt like he could collapse on even the hardest stone floor and sleep for centuries.

Instead, he had pushed the window of their attic bedroom open to let in the chilly night air and open sky. He sat perched on the sill with one knee bent and the other leg dangling against the wall inside the room, in the same position he often adopted on the long nights when he was cold and awake and alone. There was no way his mind, however exhausted, would give him the mercy of slumber after the trials of the day.

He slumped forward to wrap his arms around his leg and prop his chin on his knee. The moon was bright tonight and the stars glittered like jewels in the velvet sky. The last time he had sat like this and watched the night while the world slept, he had still been waiting for something to crack. Now it finally had and the world was an entirely different place for it, but it all seemed so ordinary here, like nothing had changed even though everything had.

He spared a thought to where Father was lurking tonight, a fleeting musing on how he should finally get rid of the dangerous bastard for good, but resolutely turned off that line of thought. He would figure out a plan for that, but not now. He could still feel the numb despair and emptiness of centuries past, but his mind wasn't there either.

Tonight, his thoughts were with Yukine. He worried and fretted over the precarious predicament they had found themselves in, and wondered what the child was dreaming of. If his dreams would be colored black and gray by painful new memories until things settled down. It had taken Yukine a long time to drift off, and his sleep had been restless. Yato's chest still felt tight from the muffled emotions filtering through the bond. If Yukine were awake, the pains might sharper. For now, dreams dulled their edges.

Yato would rather protect his kid from the ugly truths and shelter him from the world's cruelty, but Father had ripped that shield away in one fell swoop. But Yukine had survived, because he was strong.

Yato let the soft cadence and sighs of Yukine's breathing lull him a little, quiet the thoughts racing round and round in circles along the inside of his skull. His kid was on the other side of the room, breathing and dreaming and alive.

Yato sighed and stared out at the sky until the stars blurred into a hazy smear of light across the dark night. He wanted to go to sleep and find rest from his thoughts for a few precious hours, but he knew that he would only stare up at the darkened ceiling for the rest of the night if he tried. He was too worried and heartsick. Maybe he was too afraid that if he dared sleep rather than sit guard, he would wake to find that Yukine had slipped away.

A floorboard creaked, and he lifted his head to see Yukine padding across the room.

"You okay?" the shinki asked past a yawn.

"Yeah," Yato breathed, hoping he hadn't accidentally woken the kid up. "Don't mind me. I'm a terrible insomniac under stress. How are you feeling?"

Maybe it was a silly question when the dull ache nested in his chest spoke of Yukine's unease and hurt, but he was desperate to hear a reassurance or admission. To give Yukine the chance to open up if he was ready.

"Fine," Yukine mumbled.

He turned and hopped up onto the windowsill, facing into the room with both legs dangling above the floor. His knuckles were white as he gripped the ledge for safety, but he didn't seem quite as ill at ease as last time.

"If…" Yato bit his lip and swallowed. "When you're ready to talk about it, about anything, I'm here."

Yukine hunched his shoulders and stared at the circle of light around his futon. "Yeah. I promised."

"Okay." Yato let it go. There would be time later, and he wasn't going to pressure the kid while everything was still so new and raw.

They lapsed into silence for a few minutes, and Yato picked at the sleeve of his jacket idly as his mind worked overtime trying to guess what was going on in his kid's head.

"Did this happen before?" Yukine asked, hesitance dragging out the question.

Yato started in surprise. "What?"

"Did you lose another shinki to the whole thing with the…?" Yukine twisted sideways to eye Yato cautiously. "Your dad kind of made it sound like you did, and you said something about not doing this to you again. I wondered if maybe that was why you were so upset."

Yato's hand curled against his chest as the words dug their claws into the edges of an old, unhealed wound and ripped back the scar tissue. He could fall forever into the ragged fissure left there, but instead hunched his shoulders and looked back out at the night. The stars were beautiful and bright like a billion glittering names, and the spaces between were as dark as the holes that remained when they flickered out.

His first instinct was to deny everything. Sakura was his secret, his shame, his regret. He had never told anyone about her—no one but Bishamon, and even then he hadn't told the whole story. Nor was he sure that he wanted to.

But Yukine had asked, and this was the first time that telling him had even been possible without the risk of sending him over the edge. Yato would still refuse, but he wanted Yukine to feel like he wasn't alone, that he wasn't the only one with dark secrets to work through. If he wanted Yukine to talk about his own feelings, he might have to return the favor, just a little.

"I was upset because I thought you were going to die," he said bluntly. "But…yes, there was another."

He whispered his story to the night, starting and stopping as it was pulled out of him one painful word at a time. He told the moon about the beautiful spirit he had met, the one who had asked to be named and taught him right from wrong, the one who had loved him and who he had loved in return like an older sister, maybe, or the mother he had never had. He told the stars about the life he had lived with her, about bringing her pretty things to make her smile and learning to help the humans she so loved and going home at the end of the day to kill again so that Father would be happy and Hiiro wouldn't be punished. And to the dark spaces left between, trying to swallow up the stars and cloud the moon and turn the sky into a dark and endless sea, he told his greatest mistake, about foolishly handing over a deadly secret because she had seemed so curious and Hiiro had said Father told him he should and he always listened to Father. About looking up to see Sakura's beautiful face twisted into a strange and terrifying creature that sent blight creeping across his body. About killing the pitiful creature she had become, because this was what lurked inside all humans and that was why he culled the herd and I hope you learned your lesson, Yaboku.

And when he finally ran out of words and the hole she had left threatened to swallow him whole, the moon and stars and night stayed silent and distant and cold, but Yukine was listening.

"That's…that's really horrible," the shinki croaked finally.

His voice sounded strange and there was a new ache in the god's chest, but Yato only watched the moon.

"Yeah," Yato murmured. "I should have known better. I promised myself I would never do that to another shinki again, that I would never lose another like that, but Father has his own ways of forcing things. But you understand, that's what's going to happen if you let this get the best of you. That's why you need to talk to me instead of trying to fight it alone, because I don't want to lose you like that."

"No… I meant it's horrible what your dad did to you and to her. That's so…cruel and manipulative, especially forcing you to do it yourself. That's not your fault, Yato. You didn't know what would happen. I'm sure she would understand that."

"Tell me." Desperation bled into Yato's voice as he finally tore his gaze away from the night and searched Yukine's shadowed face and pained amber eyes. "Tell me I did something, anything."

Yukine blinked, taken aback, and confusion veiled his features. Yato leaned forward another centimeter, his breath congealing in his lungs, and searched for any hint of redemption in his kid's eyes.

"Tell you what?" Yukine asked. "Did wha–?" His word cut off right in the middle, a sharp, clean slice cutting it into two neat halves. A sharp, bittersweet pang twisted a knife in Yato's chest. "I already told you." Yukine's fingers slipped over the ledge of the windowsill to curl beneath his hands like small, helpless fists. His gaze slid away to stare at the circle of lamplight inside the room again. "I'm not some magical exception. I might be strong, but I need you too.

"I don't know that you were really paying attention to everything you were saying, but…you still knew how to get me to listen, I guess. It gave me something to focus on, something to keep me grounded. Something to remind me of what's important and what I stood to lose. I can't focus too much on how I…died, before. Not if it's going to mess with my life now, because that…belongs to you. You gave it to me…right? And I pledged it back to you by becoming your hafuri. I just… You told me I could belong with you, and I want that. I remembered that. And…I don't want to throw away what you gave me.

"I…" Yukine huffed out a laugh like a sigh and rubbed his hand across his face. "I talk a big game, but the truth is… The truth is that if you hadn't been there, if you hadn't said all those things and told me all those things before and I hadn't seen how upset you were, I probably wouldn't have pulled through. You held me together when I was falling apart and refused to let me go. I don't really understand how you can think that you didn't do anything. You did _everything_."

Yato swallowed down the lump in his throat. "Good," he whispered. It didn't change the mistakes he had made or the regrets he harbored, but it was a bittersweet, beautiful feeling to know that he had, in some small way, done something right this time. That he had helped save a shinki to balance out the one he had unwillingly killed. "I was afraid I was going to push you over the edge by breaking down. I… I'm glad you're okay. You really scared me."

"With how hard you fought for me, how hard you've always fought, how could I give up without a fight?" Yukine sighed heavily, and it was weighted down by the chill settling in the air. "I've never seen you that freaked out before. How was I supposed to leave if it was upsetting you that much? Ugh, what a mess. I'm sorry I scared you like that."

Yato's gaze traced the pale curve of Yukine's jaw in the moonlight, ran along each contour of his face. It hit him like a ton of bricks, even though he already knew it: this child was a miracle. Something swelled in his chest—an awe, a hope, a love, maybe.

"I write every shinki's name on my heart," he said. "When I lose them, they take a chunk of my heart with them, where their name used to be."

Yukine looked back, a flash of pearly white glinting in the moonlight as his teeth gathered in his lower lip. "Yeah. You told me."

"Even the shinki I release take a little piece of me with them. I've had a few die in my service, and those hurt worse. Nora took a lot out of me—we were together for so long… Sakura hurts the worst. I remember every name of every shinki I've ever had. And I've had a lot. I know where their name used to be, which hole belongs to them. It's always a horrible, empty feeling when a shinki dies or leaves.

"I've gone through so many shinki, and they've left me a mess. It really eats away at you, even when you're just releasing them. It's easier to write their names as small as possible and not get attached so that they don't take as much of you when they go. So that it doesn't hurt as much.

"Something went wrong with you." A tired smile pulled at Yato's lips and he let his head fall back against the window frame. "You barged right in without even taking your shoes off and laid claim to everything. I should've written your name in a tiny little corner and left it alone, but it just got bigger and bigger. In a mere year, you've taken more from me than anyone ever has.

"I've given you everything, Yukine. I can't afford to lose you. You are going to absolutely shatter me when I lose you. This is your home and your place to belong, and you are welcome to it. It makes me happy to have you here, and I want you to have it all. Just don't leave, because you will break everything that is left of my heart."

Right now, what was left of his heart was breaking for another reason entirely. His leg was knocked out of the way and he had to check his balance as Yukine flung himself into his chest. He grunted in surprise and wrapped his arms around his kid to keep him steady, keep him close.

"I love you too," Yukine wailed past his tears.

And there was another small miracle right there, because Yato's kid was a prickly teenager where he was concerned. This moment might never be acknowledged again, so Yato breathed it in, rolled it around on his tongue, and held it in the silence of his heart.

He hugged Yukine tight and closed his eyes as he buried his nose in the kid's hair. "Thank you," he breathed so softly he was nearly mouthing it.

He wasn't sure what exactly he was thankful for or who he was thanking. Yukine for pulling through, the world for finally delivering him a miracle, everyone who had helped them through this ordeal. Maybe everything. In this instant, his gratitude swelled wide enough to encompass the world. He was so, so grateful for this moment, where he could hold his kid in his arms and they lived another day together.

They sat like that for a long time, positively snuggled up. Yato briefly considered teasing Yukine about snuggling and cuddling and other things that would make him turn red and splutter ineffectively and whack the god with small fists, but decided to let it go. As much as he liked to ease heavy emotions and lighten the mood, some moments weren't meant to be broken.

Yukine's tears had dried and his emotions dulled, and Yato searched the sky for answers. His mind was quieter than before, but he still wanted some instruction manual for walking his kid through this, some assurance that things would be alright.

Yukine shivered, and Yato looked down to see that he had shifted his head to look outside too.

"We should get you back to bed," Yato said in a hushed voice. "It's been a long day. You'll feel better if you get some sleep."

Yukine sighed but slid off the sill. "I guess so. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Yukine." Yato stared at the stars for a moment more, sucked in one last lungful of fresh, night-chilled air, and pulled the window shut behind him as he hopped down.

He wrapped himself up in his blankets again, but the darkness behind his eyelids felt like death and abandonment. He shifted restlessly and flipped over to stare at the lump of blankets on the other side of the room with a mop of blond hair poking out the top. Yukine wasn't asleep either, and a series of clenching pains were squeezing about Yato's ribcage and batting gleefully at his internal organs despite the shinki's obvious efforts to keep his emotions under control.

The sheets scratched at Yato's skin like sandpaper, the mattress was hard as rock, the pillow was trying to smother him, and the night had teeth. Yukine's death darkened his mind and clogged his nostrils when he closed his eyes.

Yukine was still shaken and upset whether he was ready to talk about it or not. Yato wondered if he would dream of loud voices and rough hands and suffocating darkness. The thought had him antsy and helpless again. He couldn't protect Yukine from everything, but it killed him to wonder what was going through his kid's head across the room, over there all by himself.

He gave up and crept across the room to flop over next to Yukine in the island of soft yellow light. The shinki started in surprise and flipped over to peer at the god through squinted eyes. He opened his mouth, hesitated.

In the end, all he said was, "At least get under the blankets. You let in all the cold air leaving the window open. It's freezing in here."

Yato snorted softly and slipped beneath the covers. He felt better with Yukine so close. Maybe Yukine felt the same, because he curled close and let Yato drape an arm over him. Yato had always found it a bit annoying and uncomfortable to sleep so close to someone else, but now it eased the tense knots from his body and swept some of the racing thoughts out of his mind. For tonight, he needed to know that his kid was still here.

It still took a while to fall asleep, but eventually he drifted off with Yukine's deep, even breaths fluttering warm and alive against his skin.

* * *

Yato woke to his heart tap dancing along his ribs. Opening his eyes and squinting them blearily against the bright sunlight filtering through the window, he spotted Yukine sitting up on the other side of the futon. The kid had bowed his head and twisted halfway away to hide his face, but Yato didn't need to see his expression.

"Yukine?" he rasped.

Yukine flinched in surprise and cast a sheepish look in the god's direction. "Sorry."

Yato sat up and crossed his legs beneath the blankets, ruthlessly sweeping sleep's cobwebs from his mind to give his undivided attention to the agitated child. "Talk to me, kiddo."

"I'm fine," Yukine mumbled.

"You promised, Yukine. I don't want to push you, but…"

Yukine stayed quiet for a long time, frowning down at his hands twisted together in his lap, and then sighed. "You knew?" he asked quietly. "The whole time?"

There was no accusation in his voice, but Yato winced anyway.

"Yes," said the god. "That's another part of naming shinki. The name we give places a seal on your old name and life and death, which is why it's so devastating when it's shattered or the old name is revealed. It unlocks the rest. We see your memories and your name when we name you, and we keep them. I have died a hundred deaths alongside my shinki, including yours, and I still remember each one."

Yukine's mouth twisted into a funny expression and he shot a sidelong look at the god. "That's kind of…morbid."

"Is it?" Yato shrugged. "I'm the god. It's my responsibility to carry your death for you so that you have another chance at life. It's a burden, but not one I've ever resented."

"O-oh…" Yukine turned that over in his mind, brows drawn together and lips tight. "Thanks?"

Yato stared. "It's standard procedure. But you're welcome, I guess."

"…Right." Yukine shook his head and picked at a loose thread on the corner of the blanket. "That time… That time you freaked out and attacked that guy on a job… That was…?"

Yato frowned at his blanketed knee like it was the most interesting knee on the planet. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I'm sorry, I… It caught me by surprise and I didn't know what to do. I was afraid seeing him might push you over the edge."

"Does seeing someone from their previous life usually make shinki start remembering things?"

"No, usually there wouldn't be any recognition at all, but Father had already chipped your name at the hospital and the heavens locked you in that box and…"

"Oh." Yukine sounded surprised, and his voice was colored with the wonder of a sudden revelation. "That's why you kept letting him hit you instead of using me." Yato hummed his agreement and Yukine added, with a hint of bitter laughter, "Well, at least I have a good reason for being scared of the dark instead of just being childish, huh?"

"It's not childish," Yato said sharply. "I never thought it was."

"I did," Yukine muttered.

Yato sighed, weariness dulling his sharp edges. "Everyone is afraid of something, and it isn't kind to laugh or scoff at someone else's fear. Or your own."

Yukine was quiet, but then sniffled and swiped the back of his hand across his nose. "We have really shitty dads, don't we?"

"Yeah." Yato chewed on the inside of his cheek. "I'm sorry… I didn't know what to do. I could've done more, I guess, but I'd like to think he'll get what's coming to him either way. He belongs to a different life. I thought maybe it would be better to keep him away from us so that he couldn't interfere in a life he has no business with."

He wondered once more if he should have done something else, something_ more_, but the truth was that there was no nice black-and-white answer for him. He could have done many things, but he didn't know if any of them were necessarily _right_.

"You're probably right," Yukine said. "I don't know what I would've wanted to do either. It's better not to bother with him at all, I guess. Just… What did I…? Why would he…?"

Yato looked up sharply. Yukine was still unraveling loose threads with quivering fingers, apparently intent on unweaving the entire blanket. Unruly blond hair shadowed his face, but Yato's chest was constricting tighter and tighter. This was quickly approaching dangerous territory.

"You didn't do anything wrong." Yato took Yukine's face in his hands and forced teary amber eyes to meet his own. His voice was hard, firm, but bleeding with sympathy. "Nothing you did made you deserve that. If there's anything I've learned… You can't always blame yourself for other people. You can't always look for what's wrong with you to make them that way. Sometimes they're like that all on their own.

"There is _nothing _wrong with you, Yukine. Don't start thinking like that, or you're going to start drifting towards the line again. You are a precious, beautiful child. If there was something so wrong with you, everyone wouldn't love you so much. Hiyori, Daikoku, Kofuku, Kazuma, even that psycho bitch…me. If so many people care about you so much, don't you think it's more reasonable to think that there's something wrong with the one who doesn't?"

Yukine sniffled, lips trembling and tears glittering in his eyes and winding lazily down his cheeks. "I'm not _precious_," he mumbled. "Who even says that?"

Yato almost wanted to smile, but instead let his hands slip away. "You deserve better. What happened to you… It's not okay. It's horrible. But you can't obsess about it. You can't keep asking _why_ or wishing things could be different or playing what-if games. That's a different life, Yukine, and trying to live in it again will kill you. Don't let him kill you again. You're stronger than that.

"In this life, you are _mine_. I can't… I can't give you everything you've lost. I can't give you the family or life you should have had. I can't give you all those things living humans have that are denied to the dead. But I'm doing my best, you know? I want you to live again, even if it's not perfect. I want you to build a family with me and Hiyori and everyone else, even if it's not a 'normal' one. I want you to have a second chance, even if you can't do all the things you could before.

"I'm trying to give you a little piece of what life gave neither of us, even if I don't always know what I'm doing. My father wasn't any better than yours, my family wasn't any less broken. I don't understand how to be 'normal', and I know that I can't replace everything you lost or give you everything you deserve. I know that it's never going to be enough. But even so, you've been given another chance to live. So _live_, Yukine."

His heart was beating at his ribs again, setting forth with great determination to crack them wide open and break its way out. He didn't blame Yukine, not at all, but his body was quickly becoming as battered and weary as his heart and sanity.

"It's enough," Yukine whispered. He scrubbed at his face, but his shoulders were still shaking and tears dripped from his fingers. "You do so much for me, and Hiyori and everyone are so kind. I don't want any other kind of family. I'm happy here. You're right, there's no point worrying about the things I've lost when I've gained so much more. I like this life, and I wouldn't trade it for what I had before." His shoulders hunched forward, and he looked so small as he shrank into himself. "Thank you," he rasped in a thick voice. "For everything."

Yato's heart melted just like that, flip-flopping in the way reserved for when Yukine or Hiyori were being particularly precious. Which _was _a word that people used, whatever Yukine said.

He gathered Yukine up in his arms for what felt like the hundredth time in the past day. "It's going to be okay, kiddo. I've got you. Everyone is still here for you. You're going to be just fine."

"I just feel so broken," Yukine mumbled into Yato's chest, clutching at the jersey with trembling hands.

"Join the club," Yato said dryly. "It's okay. I'll hold the both of us together until you find your feet again."

Yukine sniffled some more and heaved a shuddering breath. Yato closed his eyes and stroked his kid's hair while their emotions slowly settled again. Yukine's train of thought had been worrying him for a while there, but he thought the kid was starting to understand. They were going to be okay.

"Are you two alive up there?" Daikoku called up the stairs. "Breakfast was ready twenty minutes ago!"

"We'll be there in a minute!" Yato shouted back. Lowering his voice back to a normal volume, he asked, "You ready to go down, or do you want to ditch breakfast and sneak out the window?"

He was going to be cautious while Yukine was still so fragile. He'd given Kofuku a terse explanation of what had happened, but all he'd been able to tell Daikoku was some vague excuse about Yukine almost dying for whatever unexplained reason. He, Kofuku, and the psycho bitch had agreed that Yukine shouldn't be left alone with other shinki for the time being, and Daikoku was no exception. If Yukine let something slip or, gods forbid, broke down and crossed the line after all, it could destroy any other shinki around too. It was better to make sure a god was always with him, under the assumption that they'd be able to do damage control. Which was fine with Yato, who had no intention of letting Yukine out of his sight anyway.

"We should go down," Yukine mumbled. He disentangled his limbs from Yato's and slid out of bed to gather clothes. "Everyone will be worried if we disappear. And Hiyori will probably be coming soon, if she isn't here already."

Yato nodded in agreement. "Right you are. But if it gets too overwhelming, let me know and I'll get you out of there."

"You're so overprotective," Yukine muttered in what was supposed to be exasperation, but the corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

They took five minutes to try to make themselves presentable, and headed downstairs. Hiyori was already there, shifting about anxiously and presumably deflecting any questions Daikoku might be asking. When she saw Yato and Yukine filing into the kitchen, a look of utter relief crossed her face.

Daikoku's eyes shone with worry as he dished out food for the latecomers. "You alright?" he asked gruffly. "You both look awful."

Yato didn't doubt it. They were both exhausted and red-eyed and wrung out, and he was sure it showed.

"Fine," he said anyway.

Kofuku bounced over to fuss over Yukine, and Daikoku hovered in a slightly less exuberant manner.

Hiyori drifted over to Yato and asked in a low voice, "How are you guys doing?"

"Okay," he said. "We talked and everything. I think… I think he'll be alright. I'm going to keep an eye on him, but he seems like he'll pull through."

"And you?"

"I'm fine as long as he's fine. You should go fuss too. He doesn't look like he has enough people fussing over him yet."

Hiyori laughed, but gave him one more searching look and went to fuss over the flustered shinki too. Yato lurked in the corner and watched with a small smile. There were lots of people here to support Yukine when things were hard. And Yato would be one of them for as long as possible. He was going to rip Father apart for this and a thousand other sins, but he would fight up to the very last second to live with this strange little family he had found.

A knock echoed through the house, and Kofuku went scrambling for the door. "Cooomiiing!"

She squealed loudly and reappeared with a beaming smile a moment later, Bishamon and Kazuma trailing after her.

"Bisha came to visit!"

Bishamon cleared her throat and her gaze darted between Yato and Yukine. "Kazuma was worried and wouldn't stop bothering me until he saw you two were alright."

Kazuma did look worried, fidgeting far more than his restrained demeanor usually allowed, but Bishamon herself visibly relaxed upon seeing them. Yato blinked at her, taken aback by her sudden appearance. She brought to mind memories of centuries of homicidal feuding, but also of rescues from the underworld, alliances against the heavens, commiserating over lost shinki, clinging together through ugly breakdowns. She was a crazy bitch, but the genuine worry and relief in her eyes made Yato tremble.

Before he thought better of it, he stepped forward and threw his arms around her. She went stiff as a board. Someone sputtered ineffectually in shock.

"Awww," Kofuku cooed. "Yato-chan and Bisha are so cute!"

"…If you start crying on me again, I will kick your ass," Bishamon said.

Yato coughed out a laugh that rasped along his tight throat. "How mean."

"I'm still soggy from yesterday. Let go of me before I smash your face in."

He let go and stepped back and almost smiled at the bright red flush coloring Bishamon's face.

"Psycho bitch."

"Stupid bastard."

"Pervy nympho."

Her eye twitched, but Kazuma interrupted the bickering.

"Um…" He looked totally lost. "Are you…?"

"Veena and I are besties now!" Yato said brightly, flinging his arm around Bishamon's shoulder.

She shoved it off. "In your dreams."

"Ouch. That stings, Bisha."

"Will you stop with the nicknames? Those aren't yours."

"Fine. Back to psycho bitch it is."

She rolled her eyes and huffed out an exasperated breath, but the shadow of a smile lurked around the corners of her mouth. Kazuma gaped like a fish out of water. Kofuku looked on with rapt delight, while everyone else stared like the gods had grown a few extra heads.

"Uh…" Kazuma shook his head sharply, dismissing his surprise with obvious difficulty. "What happened? No one seems to want to talk about it."

Everyone but he and Daikoku started exchanging looks, but Yato just shrugged.

"Yukine had a nasty run-in with my father and nearly got himself killed."

Kazuma's brows drew together as he looked between Yato and Yukine. Probably wondering what could have been so bad when Yukine had no visible injuries. And possibly wondering what could have been bad enough to make Yato have a total meltdown.

"Is he…okay?" Kazuma asked.

"I don't know!" Yato said brightly. "Why don't you ask him yourself? I think it's about time for you two to kiss and make up already."

Yukine turned red and nearly coughed up a lung. "What's _that _supposed to mean?"

"That you've been feuding for too long and it's time to make nice. Kazuma can apologize for breaking your trust and using a spell on you, and you can be a good child and forgive him. Time to make friends again!" Yato threw an arm around Bishamon's shoulders. "If even the psycho bitch and I can get along, you kids can too!"

Bishamon pushed him off again. "I question your definition of 'getting along'." But she nodded encouragement to Kazuma, and he bit his lip and hesitantly approached Yukine while Kofuku cooed in excitement about how cute it was. Bishamon's gaze slid sideways and she lowered her voice. "How's he doing?"

"Okay. I think he's going to be alright." Yato tilted his head with a frown. "Unless I go down with Father. I don't know that he'll take that well."

"You're still planning to kill him?"

"Of course. It's long past due. But I'm not planning on going down without a fight."

"You'd better not. I still need a punching bag, so you'd better come back."

Yato laughed. "You're such a tsundere."

A flush crept up Bishamon's neck and dusted her cheeks pink again. "I'm going to strangle your scrawny neck to shut you up."

"My point exactly!" He snickered and left her spluttering while he went to check on his kid, who was poking at his plate as everyone fussed over him. "Eat your food, kiddo. You didn't eat dinner."

"Neither did you," Yukine muttered, as if that had anything to do with it.

"Eat. Your voice sounds scratchy. Are you getting sick?"

"I'm dead. Can I even get sick?"

"Maybe–"

"Yato?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up. You're nagging about stupid things now."

Yato huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Hey, I'm just looking after you. I'm being _responsible_. Right, Hiyori?"

Hiyori smiled. "I never thought I'd see the day."

Yukine rolled his eyes. "Thanks so much for the concern, _Dad_," he said sarcastically. Yato flinched, his expression freezing into a mask as broken snippets of memory flitted through his mind. Yukine winced. "I didn't mean it like that," he said quickly.

Yato held his breath in his lungs for a few seconds more and let it out before continuing on blithely. "Aw, I've finally been adopted!" he said brightly, ruffling Yukine's hair.

Yukine leaned away and eyed him uncertainly before letting it drop. "You adopt kids, not parents."

"You're too young to be adopting kids, though!"

Yukine sighed in a long-suffering fashion, rolled his eyes, and launched into another rant. Yato meant to pay attention, he really did, but he caught a flash of movement through the window in the other room. He shifted to the side to get a better look through the doorway and went still, his eyes narrowing.

"–and anyway… Yato? Are you okay?"

Yato smiled absently in Yukine's general direction. "Yup. I'll be right back."

He slipped past Bishamon and through the kitchen doorway, and left the others to their chatting as he padded across the next room to the window set in the far wall. He rested his arms on the windowsill and leaned out.

"Come on out, Nora. What are you doing lurking around here?"

For a moment nothing moved, but then the bushes rustled and the black-haired girl appeared as if by magic. She always seemed to be everywhere, and Yato couldn't say he was surprised that she was following them around again.

"A little birdie told us that Yukine might have survived," she said. "I was sent to verify the rumors. Father is not pleased."

Yato leaned all his weight onto his forearms and tilted his head. "And you?"

He regarded her with ambivalence. There was one part of him that wanted to hurt her for what she had done to Yukine and everything she had ever done to him. But he also knew that she was as much Father's tool as he. She had grown twisted and warped under Father's tutelage, but mostly she followed orders. Yato didn't like working with her to kill, but they had also taken care of each other for centuries and been each other's companions when they had no one else. She loved him in her own slightly twisted way, and there would always be a part of him that loved her despite all the resentment that festered between them.

She had still been his shinki and laid claim to a piece of his heart. No matter how contentious their relationship was, that didn't change. He wondered if she realized that she still had a piece of him even now that he'd released her.

She regarded him with flat, dark eyes. "I resent the boy who took my place," she said bluntly. "But you took it too hard last time. You have to be punished for betraying Father, but that's going too far. And you still need a shinki to protect you. You should come home. You're only making things worse for yourself by resisting, and I don't want to see you shattered again."

Yato let out his breath in a sigh. Maybe it would always be like this, the two of them trying to both destroy and protect each other, hating and loving. He wanted to tell her that it wasn't her job to protect him anymore, but he wasn't cruel enough. They had spent centuries protecting each other through the good and bad, and old habits died hard.

"If you touch my kid again, you know I'll have to hurt you," he said instead, his voice heavy with warning.

She stared back, unruffled. "I follow Father's orders."

A sad smile tugged at his mouth. "I know. I'm going to set you free too."

She frowned. "What–?"

"Take care of yourself, Hiiro." He shut the window, drawing a veil across her wide-eyed shock. Turning away, he jumped a foot in the air as he came face to face with Hiyori. "Hi-Hiyori?"

Her gaze slid past him to the closed window before resting on his face again. "You're still going to let the heavens kill him?"

Yato sighed and jammed his hands into his pockets. "He needs to go. He's already nearly killed you and Yukine, and it won't stop there. He's nothing but trouble. And I'm really tired of being his puppet. It would be better for everyone if he were gone. You have to understand that."

"I do, just…" Her shoulders slumped and her eyes dimmed.

"Hey, have a little faith! If Yukine can survive the impossible, I can too. I'll still have you, and Yukine will run me into the ground wrangling new believers. It'll be fine." He tilted his head and one corner of his mouth curled upward. "You believe in me, don't you? I can do it. I'm not going down without a fight, I can promise you that. I'm definitely going to win."

She offered him a wan smile. "If anyone can do it, it's you. I can tell that you're already set on it. There's nothing I could say to change your mind, is there?"

"Honestly? No." Yato hesitated but then added, "The heavens are waiting so long because they gave me until Ooharai to take care of it myself. He's…my personal demon. My problem, my responsibility. I want to do it myself. Just…don't tell Yukine yet. I'm going to tell him myself, but I want to wait until he's a little more stable."

Hiyori closed her eyes, and her breath trembled in the still air. "Yato…" She shook her head. "I know I can't talk you out of it. I believe you can do it, and I won't forget. But if you die, I will never forgive you."

His lips quirked into a half-smile. "There's a scary thought. Good motivation not to screw it up. Thanks, Hiyori. It means a lot to have your support. And thank you for helping me look after Yukine."

"Of course. You're my friends."

She even let him throw an arm around her shoulders and lead her back to the kitchen without throwing any wrestling moves his way or complaining that he didn't understand the concept of personal space. He could feel her unease and didn't blame her. He was frightened by the idea of finally standing up to Father and terrified of the consequences of his failure. He didn't want to die or disappear, and he was afraid of what would happen to Yukine and the others if he did.

But that was something to worry about another day, and they were wearing smiles again when they joined the others in the kitchen.

"Heeey, Yukine!" Yato released Hiyori to drape himself over his kid from behind and rest his elbows on the shinki's shoulders. "Let's go out!"

Yukine huffed out a breath and shook him off. "Why do you not understand personal space? And to where?"

"Anywhere you want! It's getting kind of claustrophobic with so many people crammed in here. We could use some fresh air!" Then he added, almost as an afterthought, "And by the way, you're grounded."

Yukine twisted around in the chair, disbelief etched on his face. "Excuse me?"

"Well, not grounded as in stuck in your room," Yato clarified. "Grounded as in you're not allowed to go anywhere without me."

"But–"

"It'll be fun!" he said with an impish grin. "We're going to do _everything _together!"

Yukine bit down on the inside of his cheek, his eyes softening to a strange expression. "Yato, I'm okay."

"That's nice." Yato smiled indulgently and patted him on the head. "You're still grounded."

Yukine rolled his eyes like the teenager he was. "I don't think that word means what you think it means."

Yato laughed. "Get your coat. It's chilly." He turned away, but paused. He ran his gaze around the room at all the people gathered together, drawn by love and concern. Hiyori and Yukine, Kofuku and Daikoku, Bishamon and Kazuma. More people than he'd ever had to rely on in his entire lifetime, here together in one room. "Actually, why don't we _all _go? It'll be fun!"

He was immeasurably grateful that they were all here to give Yukine their support. It was strange, but they'd grown to be something like an odd little family. Yato's view of family was skewed from Father and he was used to being a loner, but so much had changed in the past year.

And his heart belonged to his shinki, to Yukine, but he smiled to himself as he quietly wrote everyone else's names there too, with none of the magic of a shinki bond but all of the love.


	5. Part 5

**.**

**Part 5**

* * *

Yato snuck yet another sidelong glance at Yukine walking by his side, coat zipped up to his chin and hands shoved in his pockets. They had just finished slicing up a couple dozen ayakashi. Not for a job. Yato had just dragged Yukine out to poke around the streets and hunt for phantoms to kill as a way to pass the afternoon. Well, actually, he had dragged Yukine out of the house because he wanted to talk to him, but he still hadn't figured out how to broach the subject and it had him on edge.

"You did well today," he said instead.

Yukine cast a disparaging look his way. "I _always _do well."

The corners of Yato's lips twitched upward. "Yeah… You do."

He had been wary of taking Yukine out on jobs—or, to be honest, of letting Yukine do anything at all—but the shinki had settled down considerably over the past week and was quickly becoming bored of all the restrictions Yato had slapped on him. Yato still wasn't letting the kid out of his sight, but he was slowly, carefully spooling out his leash again. Aside from some nightmares and a couple more heartbroken late-night chats and another handful of tears, Yukine showed no indication of crossing the line. He was stable and his name was holding together despite everything, and Yato was running out of time and excuses.

The god snuck another surreptitious look in Yukine's direction, and the shinki let out his breath in a huff.

"Alright, just spit it out," he said.

Yato frowned. "Spit what out?"

"Whatever it is you brought me out here to say."

He started in surprise. "How did you–?"

"Honestly, I'm not stupid. You've been kind of weird, and you practically dragged me out the door when Hiyori offered to come. So either you're avoiding her or you want me alone. And you keep giving me these _looks_. Geez. Just tell me already."

Yato coughed out a laugh despite himself. His kid was pretty smart.

"You're right."

"I'm _always _right."

"Whatever you say." Yato let it slide despite the obvious absurdity of the statement. He shoved his hands into his pockets and frowned at the ground. "So… I assume Hiyori told you that the heavens are going after Father soon."

His stomach twisted into a painful knot, which was all the confirmation he needed. He had honestly expected Hiyori to tell Yukine everything after the incident at Bishamon's place, and was more surprised that Yukine hadn't said anything or yelled at him for being stupid. Maybe the shinki had restrained himself for the sake of Yato's obviously fractured mental state, but still. He didn't doubt that Yukine and Hiyori had had conversations about it, maybe tried to find a loophole or a way to talk him into putting up a fight.

"Yeah," Yukine said, his voice tight. "She said you weren't going to do anything about it."

"I figured." Yato drew in a breath, let the winter chill swirl about his lungs, and let it out again in a sigh. A pebble clattered away down the street, and he kicked at it with the toe of his boot as he came up on it again, sending it skittering ahead once more. It narrowly missed the high-heeled shoe of a woman who hurried past without even noticing the god and shinki she nearly ran over. "You do understand why he needs to be destroyed?"

There was a long pause before Yukine said, "I want him gone as much as anyone else, but not if you're going with him. If there's something else we could do…"

"There isn't. He has to go. He nearly killed Bishamon. He attacked Hiyori's family and their business and almost shoved her across the line to become an ayakashi. He…" Yato swallowed hard. "He almost killed you too. And he knows you survived, so he'll try again. He's merciless. I'll never be free of him until he's gone for good. He seems to have a new job for me, which doesn't bode well. He won't leave me alone until I do it or kill him, and he'll pressure me into it by targeting you and Hiyori again. He's possessing humans with ayakashi and killing people with them.

"You don't… You don't understand exactly how many people he's killed over the centuries, both through me and on his own, or how many more he's capable of destroying if we don't stop him. We will never be free until he's gone. You…do understand that?"

"It's not that I don't understand, just…"

"Hey, it'll be alright. As long as Hiyori remembers me, she can be my lifeline once he's gone. And with your help, I'm sure I'll be able to get lots of believers in no time! We're probably worrying about nothing."

Yukine looked over, eyes big and solemn and unhappy. "But what if something goes wrong? What if I _can't–_?"

"Of course you can!" Yato interrupted. "You're my exemplar, and you've never let me down before." He chewed on the inside of his cheek when Yukine did not look reassured. "If…something did go wrong, it wouldn't be your fault or Hiyori's. But it's a risk we have to take. A risk I'm finally willing to take. But you survived the impossible, so I'm sure I can too!"

Yukine scuffed his shoe on the pavement and frowned at the ground as they turned the corner. "I guess we'd need to work on it either way, so that you aren't so dependent on him. Maybe we can come up with a better advertising method and… Look, I don't like it, but you pretty much cut off our other options when you went and told the heavens all about him. Even if we tried to stop them from killing him, there's only so much we could do and they'd manage it eventually. You already screwed it up, like usual. It's going to happen whether I like it or not, so now the only thing we can do is make preparations so that he doesn't take you down with him."

Yato nodded and slid around a man talking loudly on his cellphone. Yukine was smart enough to realize that Yato had effectively cut off all his own escape routes. Which was just as well, since he might fight this whole thing tooth and nail if he thought there was another option left. But he had clearly already thought it through and realized there was no way around this when the entirety of the heavens were now involved. Maybe that was why he hadn't kicked up a fuss.

It made Yato a little more confident about the rest of what he needed to say, because Yukine should know better than to freak out when he was already aware that Father was going to die no matter what.

"There's something else," he said quietly, fixing his gaze on the ground again. "The reason the heavens are waiting so long to move is that I convinced Amaterasu to give me some time to kill Father myself before they got involved."

"_What?_" Yukine's voice rose sharply in pitch, and a sharp ache began throbbing behind Yato's eyes. "Why would–? Why didn't you say anything?"

"Look. Father is my demon and my responsibility. I intend to be the one to finish him off, like I should have done a long time ago. Just… I've been putting it off, but I'm running out of time before the heavens get involved. Maybe because I'm a coward, but also because of some logistical issues." Yato huffed out a sigh and took Yukine's elbow to gently steer him down another street away from Kofuku's place. "You were in a fragile position with your name being chipped, and I was afraid to leave you alone."

"Alone?" Yukine asked sharply.

"To be honest, the plan was to sneak off and do it without you being involved at all. It was too dangerous when your name was already damaged and Father was targeting you, and all shinki are at a severe disadvantage against Chiki. It wasn't a risk I was willing to take, and I knew you'd balk at killing Father. I needed to find a different shinki to use, although I'd be left with the same problem unless I could find one not susceptible to Chiki. I was doing some research on that."

"You want another shinki?" Yukine asked, outraged.

Yato looked up and met his gaze with flat, solemn eyes. "Circumstances have changed. I've been waiting until I was sure you were stable to offer you the choice. You survived discovering the gods' greatest secret, which is something not many shinki can say. Chiki's special power in that regard would be useless against you now. It would still be dangerous, though. Father is still a threat. It would be a risk. And you would have to help me kill him, even though you don't really want to.

"It's your choice if you want to do this with me, but you need to decide soon. We're running out of time before Ooharai, and I want this taken care of before the heavens kick up a fuss."

Yukine was quiet for a long time, until they had traversed the length of an entire street and turned the corner, and Yato gleaned nothing from his expression when he snuck a peek.

"If I say no, you're still going to find another shinki and do it anyway, aren't you?" Yukine asked finally, weary resignation tugging at every word.

"Yes," Yato said quietly.

Yukine closed his eyes for a long moment before setting his mouth in a tight, determined line. "I'm your hafuri," he said. "You're stuck with me forever. And I'm your guidepost, and goodness knows you need someone to keep you in line. We're a team until the end." His gaze slid sideways to meet Yato's, and his eyes were some strange mix of hard and sad. "But you had better not die, or I will be really pissed at you."

Yato smiled a little sadly. "Thank you."

As much as he didn't want to put Yukine in any more danger, the kid would be under constant threat until Father was eliminated. Yato couldn't afford to postpone the inevitable any longer, no matter how frightened he was of what might happen to him. He should have taken care of this before Yukine was ever exposed to the gods' greatest secret, but… At least now he could have his kid with him instead of scrambling for a workaround. It would feel better to have someone he trusted by his side, even if it wasn't for a pleasant task.

And all things considered, Yukine had taken it pretty well, even if his emotions sat like a rock in Yato's stomach.

"Don't get the wrong idea," Yukine grunted, looking away. "I'm still 'grounded', so it's not like I'm allowed not to come anyway."

Yato laughed, and it melted away some of his tension. Ah, the wonders of teenagers.

It felt good to finally get all the secrets off his chest and secure Yukine's support, even if the kid clearly wasn't happy about it and Yato himself wasn't looking forward to what they were about to do.

"Hey, you know that new bakery that just opened up down the street?" he asked. "Let's go check it out! I'll even pay."

Yukine's eyebrow quirked upward. "With what money?"

"Yours, of course!"

Yukine groaned. "Bakagami."

Yato wasn't quite naïve enough to think that a handful of sweets would make everything okay, but Yukine had been through a lot lately and it couldn't hurt. One last outing before everything came to a head. One last day of normalcy. Maybe they should go fetch Hiyori too. Whatever happened tomorrow or the day after or the day after, whatever happened when he finally faced his father in one final showdown, they would have today. They should make the most of it.

Yukine's worry curdled in the pit of Yato's stomach and squeezed its fist tight around his chest, but it eased slightly as the god began rambling and teasing about anything and everything but the elephant in the room. It was still there, spreading through all the cracks and crevices of Yato's heart like it belonged there, but Yato did his best to distract the kid.

He thought he was doing a pretty decent job too, until his heart leaped high and fell like a rock, bouncing off each rib like toppling down the rungs of a ladder on the way down before splatting into his stomach. He whipped his head around just in time to see Yukine swinging his head back to stare forward with a carefully blank expression. Yato searched for anything that could have provoked such a strong reaction from the kid and caught a glimpse of messy blond hair disappearing into the crowd farther down the street. He didn't know if it was actually Yukine's father—wouldn't _that _be unlucky, running into him twice in such quick succession?—or just someone who looked a bit like him, and he didn't know if Yukine knew either. To be honest, he didn't think it really mattered either way.

Wrapping an arm around Yukine, he pulled the kid closer and dragged him along as he sped up his pace to a quick clip. The sighting set his teeth on edge, and he wanted to get Yukine away from this situation as quickly as possible. The kid was strong and had survived worse things, but there was no point in tempting fate.

Yukine sighed in resignation as Yato steered him around the corner. "I'm okay."

Yato eyed him sidelong, gauging the truthfulness of his statement. The pains in his chest had eased, corroborating the safety of Yukine's emotional state, but he was still wary. He couldn't afford to take chances. He absolutely would not lose Yukine to that bastard.

"Yukine–"

"Seriously." Yukine frowned down at the ground. He seemed calm enough, maybe even detached. "It doesn't really have anything to do with me, does it?"

"Um…" Yato wasn't sure what to make of that. He rather thought it had _everything _to do with Yukine.

"I mean, he doesn't matter anymore. He belongs to another life, and it feels really…distant. His kid is dead. He lost his chance, isn't that what you said? It's your turn. I'm your kid now, and I happen to like this life. So I don't really care about what might have happened before, because it doesn't matter anymore and it practically happened to someone else anyway."

Yato opened his mouth and hesitated, eyeing his kid in surprise. Then he smiled—a little proudly, a little sadly. "You're a smart kid. But if–"

"It's like how it should have been with your father," Yukine mused, eyes distant and brow furrowed like he was thinking hard about something and hadn't even noticed the interruption.

Yato started in surprise. "_What?_"

"You tried to build a new life." Yukine chewed on the inside of his cheek and dragged the toe of his shoe along the ground. "Your dad belongs to your old life, but he won't let you go to live the life you chose. He shouldn't matter anymore, but he won't set you free until he's dead." He finally looked up to meet Yato's eyes. "That's why I'm helping you with your stupid plan. You fought for me, fought to give me a second chance with a better life and family, and I'll do the same for you. But you'd better not die, or you're going to break everyone's hearts."

Yato's steps slowed almost to a stop. He'd never really thought about it quite like that. And he hadn't ever really considered exactly what a shinki bond had in common with a family. He might hand out pieces of his heart left and right to his shinki and to the people he had gradually come to regard as family, but now it occurred to him that maybe they had handed him pieces back. That someone cared about him enough to make a place for him in their heart too. That his death or disappearance would leave holes in someone else's heart too, like the days where he could have vanished and no one would have ever known or cared were over and in the past.

It was a little frightening, a lot of responsibility and closeness that he wasn't accustomed to after centuries of isolation. But it was also such a powerful, awe-inspiring, hopeful idea. He really had, despite everything, found a place with a family—an eccentric, dysfunctional, non-traditional, entirely self-made family—that he could feel at home with.

"It's going to be okay," he said, his voice a low breath as he reached out, hesitated, and slid his fingers across Yukine's cheek. "I'm not planning to go anywhere."

Yukine's lips trembled and his eyes filled with tears, and Yato's heart clenched in the sympathy pangs they shared. The shinki wrapped his arms around Yato, pulling them to a stop, and buried his face in the god's chest.

"I'm scared," he mumbled into the jersey, barely loud enough to be heard over the clamor of unsuspecting humans bustling through the streets.

Yato sighed and began carding his fingers through the kid's tangled nest of hair. Didn't he know it. Yukine's fear was a phantom itch running down his spine and along his nerves, a ghostly pain prodding his head with red-hot pokers, a shared ache of the heart. And the kid had actually admitted it, which was rare enough. To Yato, it was both beautiful and heartbreaking.

"I am too," he admitted quietly, a strange sort of half-smile twisting his lips. "But I'm ready to do this now because I finally have a reason to fight back, you know? I promised you a place to belong, and I'll do whatever I can to stay with you and Hiyori and everyone else. We have a lot of people behind us to help us out, and we're a good team. We're going to be just fine."

There was no way he was going down without a fight. Yukine needed him, still needed support to keep him walking on the straight and narrow along the line, and there were people who still wanted them around. He was fighting for Yukine and Hiyori, for Kofuku and Daikoku and Bishamon and Kazuma and everyone else. He was fighting to keep them safe from Father so that they could keep living their lives without his interference.

But he was also fighting for himself now, because they made him happy and he wanted to stay with them. And if that made him selfish then _so be it_, but he wanted to be a god of fortune and make people happy, and for the first time that included himself too.

"Yeah," Yukine said with a sniffle. "Okay."

"Besides," Yato added with a sly smile, "I can't die yet. You're still grounded, and _someone _has to look after you."

Yukine coughed out a laugh despite himself as he leaned back. "You're impossible."

Yato smiled back and took his hand and towed him down the street back to Kofuku's place, already rambling about fetching Hiyori and checking out the new bakery again. Yukine's hand was small and warm in his, and the shinki didn't pull it away despite some vociferous complaining. Yato practically wriggled in excitement and anticipation as he dragged the kid along to rejoin the rest of their odd little family, and the thought of bringing everyone together again made a strange sort of warmth fill up his chest and seep into all the cracks.

He had always thought that all the empty holes in his battered, broken heart meant that he had less to give, but now he wondered if maybe they just made space to let everyone else in.


End file.
